ever since the incident after homecoming, crimson had begun to avoid james like the plague. refusing to meet up with sabina if james was around. going the opposite direction in the hallway if she caught a glimpse of the mop headed boy. luck certainly ran its course when she found him stepping in front of her, literally incapable of walking away. “ you don’t get it, james. i thought that was YOUR house. you didn’t tell me the truth. there’s a psycho killer roaming du pont grounds and i can’t have people i love breaking my trust. ”
“ i know, i know... i know it’s a poor excuse, but i was genuinely surprised that we weren’t at my house, too… ” remorse contorts jovial features into a wounded expression ; there’s still a fog that clouds his memory of what truly unraveled that night. it seems as though that persona of his past was still very much alive in his subconscious, and would come out to play without warning whenever his senses was subdued. he rests his weary head against the side of the wall, chest puffed out from a sharp inhale. “ look, i’m sorry. i know i’m a bad, bad... awful drunk, but can’t you like... forgive me - just this once? or... i don’t know - give me a way to redeem myself, at least. ”