ONE FOR THE MONEY.

  𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒓𝒆𝒘 𝒂𝒓𝒎𝒔𝒕𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈. 𝒙𝒙𝒙𝒊𝒗. 𝒏𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒉𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒓.

[ofdeathrow]

〤       :       @bonesaglow  !

      he wasn’t entirely sure how he’d managed to get himself stuck at some halloween party he had no interest in being at to begin with , but there he was , the tall male dragging around the decaying corpse currently cocooned in cling-foil. the best part about working on halloween , was the ability to walk freely through the streets with his latest victim without turning heads.

       ❛       ---- holyshit , cool costume man !    ❜   the stranger spoke as he knelt down and began to poke at the deceased body , but andrew remained completely tranquil despite the possibility of getting caught. as the other began to ramble on about how real his ‘costume’ looked , cognac hues scoped out the room , landing upon a familiar face that tugged at his heartstrings. he stares for a moment longer than he should , before quickly averting his gaze elsewhere , hoping she hadn’t spotted him among the crowds.

        he couldn’t let her see him. not now , not like this. he practically ignores the guy still throwing sentences his way and turns to make a quick , furtive escape.

[ofdeathrow]

〤       :        𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒚 𝒕𝒆𝒎𝒑𝒆𝒓 !

He may be taller than her, but that didn’t stop the shorter woman from smacking the man on the back of the head with a clean wooden spoon. “It’s not even done yet. That’s just the start of the broth,” she stated, shoving him out of the way to get back to cooking.

    as the wooden spoon is met with the back of the anarchy members head, a brow quirks upwards in surprise to her admirable bravely. most people wouldn’t live to tell the tale, but yet, somehow deathrow couldn’t help but be somewhat amused by the perilous action.   ❛   & who is it you’re trying to poison ?   ❜

[ofdeathrow]

〤       :       𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒂 !

Anita couldn’t help but roll her eyes at his reaction. “It has the perfect amount of salt. You’re just not used to good cooking.” She pointed out, turning her attention towards him. “If you could do better, why aren’t you the one cooking?”

    ❛   if you ever got the privilege of tasting my cooking, anita, you’d have to come to terms with whoever has been lying to you your entire life about your own.    ❜   his tone is nonchalant as the somewhat playful remark leaves his lips, the anarchy member not at all surprised by her need to bite back at his ruthless criticism. 

[ofdeathrow]

〤       :       𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒔 !

“i didn’t make it, i was asked to watch it,” she said. “i actually know how to cook. any italian that can’t cook is a disgrace,” little miss said as she hopped up onto the counter.

   ❛   i’ll take your word for it. got any water ?    ❜   he said lowly, wanting nothing more than to rid his mouth of it’s horrible aftertaste. 

[ofdeathrow]

    ❛    too much salt.    ❜   he grimaced, face screwing up in disgust at whatever torture his taste-buds had just endured.   ❛    don’t quit your day job.    ❜