BLAKE FRASER – foughtpower.
starter for @damianholstad / this party was one of the LAST places blake wanted to be . though with her mom working the graveyard shift & their apartment standing hauntingly empty , the blonde forced herself to go out . besides , it was half expected of her to at least make an appearance at the house party . though after downing a few beers ( a jello shot or two had been thrown somewhere in the mix ) , the party had lost its appeal . she found herself sitting on a worn in love seat with less than savory company , whose rude comments which later led to advances , forced her out of the spot and back toward the kitchen . finally , a FAMILIAR face . blake attempted to hide discomfort from previous interaction as she approached damian , hands fixing blonde strands into place and straightening out the wrinkles in her dress . “ hey , stranger . ”
red solo in hand, the other sneaks into his pocket – fiddling with the lighter, soon brought up, he just needed to bum one. or two. alcohol warms his blood, bruised skin flickering ALIGHT, and it’s the cause for an urge : nicotine, always on hand, has its craving amplified. he should quit. but he doesn’t. fingertips itch against scraped plastic, temporary resisting an addiction grown strong. IT WAS LATE. and as friendly faces pushed through the front door, hours after a party had commenced, the initial crowd dispersed. damian was DIFFERENT, though, from those who knew of their limit. he stayed : well past closing time, edging into dawn and the alarm clocks of the responsible. he needn’t know those like him, they’d bond with resilience – over leftover beers and crushed chips found in a stranger’s pantry. HE STAYS. and he waits, for the buzz to kick into high gear. moving through the crowd with ease, damian slips another shot of vodka into his drink, downing it. until he sees her, he’s engulfed in the world of drinking – occupied with losing his balance and his common sense. but pretty girls had the same effect. “ ah, if it isn’t the BOARD - GAME CHAMPION ! ” he begins, partaking in his usual dramatics. “ you owe me a rematch. ”
