homebled:
josh isn’t here to party, actually just going to give an acquaintance some weed and dip. both hands are shoved into his jacket, his frame slouched as he tries to breeze through the common room undetected. ( a good plan; too bad it doesn’t work out. ) he can’t do much besides stare at ophelia, rewarding her antics with nothing more than a mildly amused stare. he remembers her, vaguely. ❝ oh yeah. you gave me nightmares, you know. ❞ he at least gives her a smile this time around. he didn’t throw one off because he was scared of littering. not the best memory ever. ❝ are you going to try to do it again?? ‘cause i’m not drunk this time around. ❞
Quirking a brow, Ophelia chomped on a shoplifted wad of cherry gum she’d forgotten was in her mouth. “Relax, cowboy. Fuckin’... Debby Downer on our hands. Jesus.” Scrunching her features, she offered a limp shrug. “I don’t know. Doesn't sound like the idea made your dick hard, though.” She stuck her hand out with a tight smile, noting with an irritated scoff that her manicure – an alternating yellow and blue mess that looked nothing like the Pinterest image she’d studied – had chipped. “I'm initiating a handshake, please respond.”
