nevermore

him

"Fuck. Shit"
I muttered with a joint hanging from my lips while trying to spark up an old red bic lighter. I hated and loved the way my thumbs were callused and raw from sparking lighters, proof I have a tolerance to nicotine and marijuana that anyone could challenge. Eventually I sparked it up enough to light up the end of the pretty little pre roll.

Inhaling deep as fuck and exhaling slowly, I glare at myself in the jagged mirror hanging adjacent to the window frame, where I'm sitting.

"What do you want?"

I flipped the doppelgänger off and rolled my eyes, amused and annoyed that this reflection was my only friend.

"Faggot."

Internalized homophobia? I wasn't sure. I know I don't hate himself for finding men attractive. That was a milestone that had long since been overcome. I was just confused over why I liked a man- why I liked anyone all of a sudden. Surely I don't want to. What's so special about Raymond anyways?

He's a werewolf. That's kind of special, I guess.

After another few hits and a quick coughing fit I figured that wasn't necessarily a good kind of special.

I frowned and stood up, placing the joint gently onto a wooden ash tray then fumbling around for my phone that'd been thrown somewhere in a rage.

message to: cast
can i have his number  4:37

cast
whose number 👀  4:37

i'll kill u   4:39

cast:
o ma gawd here   4:41
###-###-####  

thanks. don't ever say that again.    4:42

cast:
have fun 😛   4:42

I stared at the number for awhile, twiddling my thumbs and chewing on my bottom lip. I could feel the burn in my thumbs from sparking the lighter. After all this time they were still so fucking delicate. My focus was regained when I almost hit send.

new message to: ###-###-####
hey

This was not a good idea.

I deleted the message and then retyped it with a period. Better.

I closed his eyes and let my thumb hit the screen, the swoosh echoed throughout the room. I stared up at the ceiling and sighed, tasting the weed and seeing all of my regrets.

"My god, I do hate myself."

Without realizing I had clicked on Marcus's contact. He was always somehow back in my recents.

hey. you have my jacket 4:50

I meant to sound like I was asking him but it was more of a factual statement. Another fact is this wasn't going to end well either, I could feel it. I was setting myself up though, and I damn well know that.

When I didn't get a reply in the next five minutes I sighed and threw my phone, it crashed into the mirror, and undoubtedly breaking it further. I didn't bother to check.

I picked up the joint and walked back over to the window.

I am not a good idea.

_______________________________

this is essentially me lighting up aka why i dont smoke alone
literally 300+ words. i'm sorry haha

my hairs red btw

check out my convo wall if you want the link to my ao3 and/or want me to check out yours i happily will
[t]