❛ what up , smurf-y . ❜ his voice precedes his presence , but not by much . no sooner do insolent words roll off his tongue is he on connor like bees on honey . history books speak poorly of soldiers who brandish their swords into the backs of others , but –– fortunately for jimbo –– there is no code of honour to keep him from assailing an unsuspecting victim . he slaps open palms against connor’s back , right on the shoulder blades , and gives him a deliberate shove towards the locker-lined wall . ( nice . ) somewhere in the world , probably at a conference of bullies , he’s sure that somebody’s written bathroom poetry about the beauty of the sound of losers hitting lockers . thwack !
jimbo leans against the wall , tucking his hands nonchalantly into the pockets of his coat . the insolent smile sprawled across his lips gives the rest of his face a bright , elated appearance . fucking with connor is like taking somebody’s arm and twisting back further and further ; someday that joint will give out or the bone will break . ( snap , crackle , pop ! ) until then , pushing the limits is like a free adrenaline dispensary . he angles his head forward , still beaming . for the most part , looking into his face is like looking at a dog that’s bitten a kid but has no notion of the consequences . ❛ nice bag . you accidentally bring you mom’s purse to school ? ❜
he’d be lying if he said he was surprised by the attack . it’s not uncommon to find himself shoved around by other students, of both the popular and the unpopular breeds . and, of course, jimbo is one of his usual tormentors, so it comes as no shock. despite that fact, he still flinches under the touch, knowing what’s next ( the way his palms smack into the metal, narrowly saving his face from smashing into the locker, just bumping his chin at the last moment, but it most likely won’t leave a bruise ) — and he hunches his shoulders like a child receiving a scolding, long hair falling over his face and casting shadows over his skin .
rage is not an emotion that connor is unfamiliar with, and he feels it bubbling in the pit of his gut, but he knows it isn’t worth it . he is, to put it kindly, fucking weak and couldn’t hold a fight, and besides, the last thing he needs is another detention, or suspension, or another fuckin’ expulsion . so instead, he curls his hands into fists so that his black-painted nails dig crescent moons into the palms of his hands, and with all his might, rolls his eyes dramatically, straightening his posture as if he’s unbothered. ❛ wow, good one. i’m laughing so hard, can’t you tell ? ❜
annaxmalina
izzy806
areudirty
kaledo-art
baratheonpilled
prguitarman
