I AM A FUNERAL. @chaoticmvnd - Tumblr Blog

his eyes studies the other cautiostly, body rests against the counter, though he still feels this verge of being uncomfortable & intrigued. lets out a mild snort. "oh i know, i'm the whole package, actually. smart, funny and good looking" a teasing tone lingers upon his words, probably to contain the urge of ending this in a quick way. he could. but that wouldn't be him. he has never been a fan of rushing things up, he likes it slow ; for whatever reason. see, rhys has this constant need of being in control — the unknown infuriates him. but desperate measures? that's not him, that's kaleb. so he keeps quiet. and he sees it slipping though his hands & tries to reach it back. "yeah, i'm sure you'd love that but you're not really my type, man" he straightens his stance as he finally gets a look on how tall the other actually is. his frustration only increases. "what is up with you, anyways? i mean, with that rich ass face? did daddy forgot to give you money or something? look, i'm sure there's plenty of other places where you can crash. just— do not test me"

#* 001.#you're not rly my type ???? liar

His grip softens as his brows furrows in confusion. Truth is: he's not used to being confronted, much less having his threats being ignored, so it's definitely a first. & his insides feels weird as he can't bring himself to decide if he finds it either amusing or annoying. The headlights of cars passing by outside lightens the room through the window, giving himself a partial view of the boy half asleep at the dusty living room. Rhys' head tilts to the side as he takes a shamelessly look, despite the messy hair & morbid eyes, he didn't quite look as a homeless person, which raised tons of suspicious upon Wolf's mind. "Well, It is ilegal to break into somebody's property, y'know" not his, but the other didn't need to know. "The sleep p— Yeah. Might arrest you for that. You into handcuffs?" tone dripping sarcasm followed by an eye roll, just his usual self. He sighs, annoyed; uncomfortable. "Listen, you can't stay here. Leave"

#* 001.

"Stop. Right there." Pistol out, though his fingers never touched the cool metal — that’s been hovering in the air towards the possible threat. Rhys never misses an oportunity to show off. He twists his already attentive stance into position: barrel of the gun pointed firmly against the moving shadow, head tilted to take aim, arms braced for the worst against all the odds he’s already faced. The walls were dark, the atmosphere tight and window’s fogged from the cold outside. It's not fear that crosses his mind, but the absence of someone else's presence for too long might cause deffensive actions right away. The house was abandoned, or so he though.

#* 001.