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@flint-long
What? Then why are we standing here doing nothing?!? We should take her to see my sister, she’s good with sick people.
She’s still alive right?
She's just drunk, I don't think a hospital is necessary.. Plus, I don't know her and that would mean I'd have to carry her. And I'm tired.Â
Yeah I might have stolen your toothbrush again.
Ask her for her name!
She's passed out, Noe. Like, beyond knocked out
Are you going to continue speaking to me..? Your little girlfriend might wake up soon. Hopefully she isn’t dead. If she is, I call dibs on her liver and kidneys.Â
I have no reason to stop, do I? I don't even know her name Alena, she just.. stumbled here and fainted. Guess she's drunk or something. Looked a bit too familiar, the whole scene.Â
You were the one whining about your situation. I digress, I don’t have time, nor interest to bicker.
Well duh there's a hot stranger asleep on my lap. Which doesn't really sound that bad, but it is.Â
Shouldn’t you be worrying about her, and not talking to me?
You were the one who talked to me in the first place. But no.
Looks messy.
Could be messier. You'd know.
I-.. Have no idea who this is.
Do I Wanna Know || Alena & Flint
Alena watched Flint, not speaking as he stood there. She was ready to get up and leave, that was the easy, and smart thing to do. But, she found herself staying put on the edge of his bed, her eyes searching his. Alena rolled her eyes at Flint, “Flint, shut up. It doesn’t matter what I did. That’s not my thing. Caring. I guess, I dunno. Maybe I get why you’re upset, but it frustrates me.” her eyebrows pulled together, a displeased look crossing her mug. “whatever, drop it. What I do with other people is my business, Flint. So, it didn’t stop at that. He took me home. Whatever. It’s what I do.” her hands curled into fists. “I don’t need to explain myself to you,” Alena was no stranger to anger, often being quick to it. She shook her head, letting the anger roll off of her shoulders. Moving herself up, she laid down and turned to face Flint, staying on the edge of the small bed, leaving some space between their bodies. “You can’t count on that,” she bluntly told him, biting her lip. “But, I’m here for the night, that should be enough.”Â
"Of course it matters!" Flint's voice rose, but he sighed heavily and calmed himself down. She was right, though, what she did was not his business, and just because he loved her didn't mean she had to care at all for him. He couldn't make her love him back, all he could do was care for her and make sure she didn't die by her own hand, but that was it. When she said 'He took me home', everything inside Flint tensed, but again, he couldn't do anything about it, just feel extremely impotent and try not to burn the building down. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the closeness, even though what she was saying made him feel hopeless and plain stupid. He zoned her words out, his eyes still close as he felt Alena moving herself up and closer to him. They weren't touching at all, but it still felt intimate somehow. "Sorry for getting angry. Or hurt, whatever." He mumbled, briefly opening his eyelids and settling his warm eyes on her cold ones. Although they didn't look so cold anymore, just broken. "Just because I feel something doesn't mean you have to feel it to. Although you're still a coward." He smiled weakly and closed his eyes again, relaxing into the softness of the feather pillows under his temple. "Just make sure you don't laugh right in my face the next time I tell you I love you." His mind began dozing off, thoughts of the previous week replaced by moments of that night, and his final thought when he had fallen asleep had been Alena. Alena's eyes, Alena's smile, Alena's freckles, Alena on the ground, Alena hurt, Alena drunk, Alena this, Alena that, Alena, Alena, Alena. Dreams swirled with the dull color of reality for at least 5 hours before his eyes started fluttering open, warm sunlight peeking through the curtains of his very messy room. His brown eyes squinted at first, then focused. Flint stretched, groaning as his bones snapped and cracked. Scratching the back of his head, he decided he'd go back to sleep as he began closing his eyes once again, but it suddenly hit him. Alena. His eyes cracked open, then his head whipped to the side. There was an empty, still-warm spot next to his, his arm stretched beneath the pillow as if someone's head had been resting on it, his entire body tangled with the sheets of that same empty spot. Flint's lips pressed together on a thin line, a lump forming inside his throat. She had left. Again.Â
The Maze Runner Guide to the Glade Scan [x]
Do I Wanna Know || Alena & Flint
Alena jumped as the door slammed in front of her. She stayed facing the door, focusing on the tiny cracks in the old paint. Her eyes traced the old cracks which spidered out, giving her brain something to comprehend and ignore Flint, who was now standing behind her. Her palms were quick to turn into fists as she dug her nails into her flesh, still trying to drown out Flint. She was annoyed, mostly with herself, but lashing out at Flint instead. Her mouth stayed shut, and her nails dug into her palms harder, her knuckles turning white. As he paused, Alena turned around and looked at him, ready to tell him off for blaming her for his problems. She never asked for any of this to happen, and he kept shoving his upsets onto her. She stayed silent as he spoke, her expression softening considerably. The girl studied Flint. His appearance was different. He looked tired, and defeated. Almost like a ghost of his former self. She gazed around his room, noticing its messy state for the first time. Swallowing thickly, she wrung her hands quickly, looking down, unable to look Flint in the eye. As he continued to spit out words to her, Alena flinched. Having him call her out as he did, caused her to snap her head out and give him a stern glance. She shook her head, her expression quickly falling. Alena glanced up at Flint, “I’m tired now,” she mumbled, keeping her tone soft. Slowly, Alena backed away from the door, sitting on the edge of his bed. “Just stop calling me out, you don’t know what you’re talking about.” she was careful to not make her tone accusatory. “I’m tired,” she repeated, grabbing his arm gently. “Come on, lay down.” Â
Everything went slower inside his head when she looked up at him and locked her eyes on his, a hint of guilt and sadness hiding behind that layer of icy blue. She walked away from the door and sat on his bed, but Flint didn't move, just stood there with the door wide open, just in case she had any second thoughts. When he finally realized she wasn't going anywhere, Flint squared his jaw and gently closed the door, suddenly feeling exhausted, like this had taken every bit of the energy he had left. It took him a while to unglue his feet from the floor and walk towards the bed, sitting down a few inches away from Alena. "I do know what I'm talking about" He mumbled, looking down at her hand on his arm. It had been a while since her porcelain, milky skin had made contrast with his golden one. "I saw you kissing someone that night, and I bet all my scales that you didn't stop there" Flint's eyes grew weary, the ends of his vision going darker by the second. He blinked twice, then slowly lied down on the bed, his sore muscles finally making contact with his soft, fluffy bed. Maybe the alcohol was finally having some effect on him. "You don't get it, though. You probably never will" Flint yawned, his weary eyes glued to Alena's face. He smiled weakly, he had forgotten how pretty she was. "C'mon, lie down" Repeating her words, Flint scooted away and gave space for her to lie down next to him. He kicked off his shoes and pulled the blanket over himself, a weak frown invading his features. "You better be here when I wake up."
Do I Wanna Know || Alena & Flint
Alena’s fingers toyed with the end of the shirt she was now dressed in, tugging on invisible hairs, just to keep them busy. Whenever she was nervous, she had the habit of doing things with her hands. Most of the time, she opted for wringing the, turning her pale skin red and raw, but she knew Flint would pick up on that, and chose to tug on the ends of the shirt covering her body. Her eyes followed his hands, narrowing slightly down at him, almost like she was challenging him. Letting out a sigh, she didn’t flinch as he touched her for once, and let Flint clean her face, looking down. Guilt still twisted in the pit her stomach. “I— —” she started, only shutting her mouth once more. As soon as he spoke again, Alena’s eyes fell, and she dropped the mischievous look they usually came with, glancing at him guiltily. “I shouldn’t have called you,” she mumbled, wringing her hands together, backing away slightly from Flint. “I should leave, actually.” Alena lifted herself up, wincing in pain, only sitting back down again. “Fuck,” she muttered under her breath, brushing her hair behind her ear. Getting up again, Alena caught her footing and leaned on the wall as she moved towards his door. It seemed cowardly, but it was logical in her mind to get out of the situation which made her uncomfortable. A small part of her hoped Flint would tell her to stay, despite the pain she clearly caused him. Sighing, she shook her head slightly, reaching for the door.
The look of pure guilt in her eyes made Flint slightly flinch, and suddenly she was backing up against the headboard of the bed and wincing in pain. He just sat there, his eyes following and studying her every movement as she stood up from the bed and began gathering her stuff. Meanwhile, Flint couldn't move, his body frozen from the shock of what was happening. She was leaving him, again, out of pure cowardice and cruelty. He couldn't believe she was actually escaping from him again, and suddenly a wave of pure anger and hurt gave Flint the energy to stand up and walk towards the door, then put his hand against the door and shut it right before she could fully open it, framing Alena against the door and his own body, her back facing him. "Look at me, Alena." He croaked, the lump getting even more painful. "Look at my room. Can you see the mess? I smell like shit, Alena. I haven't showered in days, I haven't slept in two weeks and I can't remember the last time I ate something" His eyes grew watery, his voice weaker and less harsh. "I am a mess, and it's all because of you and your cowardice. You're even running away again-" Flint's voice finally broke at the end of that sentence as he chuckled, tears threatening to roll down his cheeks. "If you want to go grind yourself against some disgusting, perverted loser then go ahead, be my guest. You're not gonna fuck the feeling away, and you're not gonna fuck away the fact that I love you. It's still gonna be there when you wake up and when you drink yourself into oblivion in the middle of an alley at 4 A.M. It's always gonna be there, no matter how hard you run. Just don't bother calling me when you get tired of running." Then he opened the door wide open for her, half hoping she would close it and not leave him again. "You can keep the clothes."
Fine, mine then. And just because I said not to, okay? Okay.
Yeah, I'm going through a hard phase and I've been taking it out on my room. Alright then, what should I call you?
Do I Wanna Know || Alena & Flint
Alena stayed silent, not even stirring as Flint carried her. She shut her eyes, breathing slowly, since it hurt her stomach to take any deep breaths. Embarrassment still burned the back of her throat. The fact that she was caught by surprise and was attacked was not the best thing for her inflated ego. The fact that she had to call Flint, of all people, didn’t help at all. While Alena was quick to have a soft spot for Flint, she knew in the back of her mind, she wasn’t good for him. Some people were poison, and she was one of those people. She enjoyed using people and hurting people, simply because she could do those things. Alena did things because she could, or she found a use for them. Rarely, did she find any genuine reason to keep anyone around her. As Flint placed her on his bed, she curled onto her side, and watched him fiddle around in his closet. Nodding, instead of speaking, she took the clothes. She turned her back towards him, taking off her ripped dress, letting it fall to the ground. Alena shimmied into his shirt, and pulled his shorts on, taking a moment. They smelled clean, and like Flint. A small smile graced her face, only to flee instantly, but for a millisecond, it was there. Alena slowly sat up on his bed, hugging her knees to her chest, looking at Flint. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, feeling it applied to more than the situation at hand. The small nag of guilt for laughing in his face when he admitted his feelings for her tugged in the back of her mind. Alena rested her chin on the top of her knees, only curling herself more into herself. Her appearance was small, and her voice was soft. “Are you mad?” she asked, looking up at Flint once more, biting her lip.
Flint nodded in response and headed towards the bathroom, then began searching through his ex-roommate's stuff to see if he could find anything to get the dirt and blood off Alena's face. Also because he couldn't stand being in the same room with her for long enough. A couple minutes later, Flint walked out of the bathroom with some towelettes in one hand and the other one buried inside his pocket, his eyes glued to the floor as he walked around the bed and picked up the ripped dress, the sight of Alena in his clothes making his heart ache. Why was he doing this? Why had he brought her here in the first place? Where was he gonna sleep now? Flint mentally face palmed himself as he pressed his lips into a thin line when she mumbled an apology, his back tensing. Why was she apologizing, he didn't know, but Flint gave no response, just turned around and sat on the edge of the bed. She looked small, fragile, and weak, something he wasn't used to when it came to Alena, and a lump formed inside his throat the moment she asked if he was mad. He mumbled a quiet "No" before he opened the pack of towelettes and pulled one out, then out of impulse he reached up to her face to clean the blood off before stopping himself mid-way. After at least five seconds of debating with himself inside his head, Flint gently wiped a smear of blood and dirt from her porcelain cheek, then began cleaning her cuts and scrapes. "I'm hurt." He mumbled, the lump inside his throat only getting more painful and hard to ignore.Â
 Hm …yours. But word to the wise, don’t call me princess.
Mine smells like a dirty bar, tho. And it's a mess. Why?
