✧ man's best friend ✧

[kane-blackthorne]

Kane took the glass of water from her with a small, grateful nod, settling into the chair across from her. He gave a quiet smile at her laughter, the soft light of the living room making her look smaller, warmer, more approachable than he’d expected. “Thanks,” he murmured, voice low but steady. “I get the quiet. I like it too sometimes. Makes it easier to think without everything rushing at you.” He paused, letting the words hang for a moment, watching her gestures, the way she spoke about her cats, the little life she’d built around them. He leaned back slightly, fingers brushing against the edge of his chair as he considered how much to say. “I’m Kane,” he finally said, letting a faint smirk curl at the edge of his lips. “I tend to keep things short. Facts, mostly. Not much room for extra details.” He looked down at the glass in his hands, twisting it lightly before meeting her eyes again. “I’ve been a bit of a loner for most of my life,” he admitted, voice low, honest, but not heavy. “I can count my friends on one finger and sometimes it feels like that’s even too many.” He shrugged lightly, a small, almost embarrassed gesture. “Not that it matters. She's not always in the city anyway.” He shifted just slightly, letting the silence settle between them, but not awkwardly, calmly. “I don’t have family around here anymore,” he said quietly, voice low but steady. “Life got dark a couple of years back. I lost a lot of people that meant a lot to me.” He paused for a moment, as if weighing how much to reveal, then let out a quiet breath. “I’m still kind of trying to piece myself back together,” he admitted, eyes tracing some invisible point on the floor before returning to her. There was no bitterness in his tone, just honesty, and something careful, fragile, in the way he phrased it. "Most nights it's just me figuring things out, one day at a time.”

[roryflcres]

she should be more nervous than she was, maybe she should follow the rules that people who lived in the appalachia mountains did, after dark close the blinds, if you heard your name, you didn’t, if you heard a noise ignore it. but if she was honest, she was too curious for that, she would’ve heard her name and answered back, the same way she saw kane outside and let him in. "quiet is nice at times, but i feel like my head gets too loud when i’m alone for too long," she chuckled, "i like mixing alone time with group time… i don’t know," she laughed at herself for not making much sense. as he explained how he was alone, how he couldn’t really consider anyone a friend most of the time, she sighed, her eyebrows furrowing slightly with concern. "i’m sorry you feel alone," she said softly, "but i guess you can count a friend and a half," she added, looking up at him, her light eyes meeting his. after all, he was there late at night talking to her, that’s what friends did, right? she let out a small breath. "i’m guessing you’re a night owl, after our last encounter and this one," she chuckled, trying to keep the conversation flowing before silence settled in. she took a sip from her glass, glancing away for a moment before meeting his eyes again. "have you been in town long? i don’t think i’ve ever seen you around," she asked softly, "i think i would remember your face."

[kane-blackthorne]

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I know I keep coming across weird, and I don’t mean to. I’m just not good at talking to people. Most of my life, I’ve been ignored, or made to feel like I don’t exist.” His gaze dipped for a moment, then lifted back to her, unguarded. “I grabbed onto the first real contact someone gave me. You.” There was no manipulation in it, just blunt, uncomfortable honesty. He let out a slow breath, steadying himself. “I know following you wasn’t okay. I know this is a lot." Softer now, almost hopeful, he added, “I’d just like to get to know you, properly. At your pace. If you’ll let me. I won't turn up like this again." Kane froze the moment her hand touched the door, every sense sharpening as it opened. He felt it immediately, the quiet, unmistakable shift. An invitation. Given freely, unknowingly, and without conditions. The threshold no longer barred him. He didn’t step forward right away. His gaze lifted to her face, searching it, jaw tightening with restraint rather than hunger. “Rory,” he said gently, slower now, as if choosing each word with care, “you don’t have to do this just because you feel bad for me.” There was no pressure in his tone. “I won’t come in if you don’t want me to. You can say no.” But when she stepped aside and offered him warmth instead of fear, tea, coffee, anything, something in his expression softened. Not triumph. Something quieter. Almost reverent. “Thank you,” he said after a beat, and meant more than the words suggested. He crossed the threshold deliberately, hands visible, movements careful, like he was handling something fragile. Her home wrapped around him, and he was acutely aware of what that meant, how much trust she’d given without realising it. “I really did mean it,” he added, voice low but steady. “About wanting a friend. About not wanting to hurt you.” A pause, then, more personal, more sincere. “And about wanting to get to know you." At her offer, the corner of his mouth lifted faintly. “Water would be nice,” he said. “If that’s still okay.” Kane lingered just inside the entryway, glancing around like the space itself might tell him what he was supposed to do next. His eyes traced the walls, the furniture, the small signs of her life scattered around, soft, human things that made him feel suddenly too large, too out of place. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, then slipped his hands into the pockets of his jeans, shoulders drawing in slightly. Unsure. Very aware that he didn’t quite belong anywhere. “This place is nice,” he said after a moment, the words coming out a little stiff, like he was afraid of saying the wrong thing. “It feels quiet. In a good way.” He glanced back at her, searching her expression, then gestured vaguely at the room. There was a faint, self-conscious huff of a breath from him. “Sorry. I’m bad at this part,” he admitted, rubbing his thumb against the seam of his pocket. “Talking."

[roryflcres]

she knew she probably should’ve stayed inside. if this were a horror movie, she was doing exactly what got people killed—opening the door, stepping into the dark, following curiosity instead of common sense. but rory had never been very good at ignoring the pull of something that didn’t quite make sense to her. she knew being followed wasn’t okay, she knew he shouldn’t be there, and yet the way he had said he’d been alone for years tugged at something soft in her chest that she couldn’t just switch off. so she opened the door for him anyway. when he said her name, she glanced up at him, unsure what she was doing, only that she was moving forward on instinct. once he stepped inside, she let out a quiet breath and closed the glass door behind them. “okay,” she nodded, still too nervous to say much—something that almost never happened to her. rory was usually good at small talk, good at filling silence with brightness, even if delivering bad news at the clinic sometimes knocked that confidence out of her. “okay,” she repeated when he said whatever drink was fine. she left him in the living room and walked into the kitchen, stepping past her cats who were far too focused on devouring the sardines she’d topped their feeder with to care about the stranger in the house. she returned a moment later with a glass of water. “thanks,” she murmured as she handed it to him. “i guess you could say this is my safe place. i like when it’s quiet here… even if it isn’t most of the time.” she chewed lightly on the inside of her cheek. “you’re good,” she added when he apologized for being awkward. “it’s late—no one’s eloquent this late.” she tried to smile a little before moving to sit on the couch, glancing toward him. “you can sit with me if you want… or grab a chair.” she hesitated. “i’m probably not the best company right now, but if you need a friend… i can tell you about me.” she drew in a breath. “i’m rory—but you already know that. i’m twenty-six. my birthday’s in july.” she thought for a moment. “i have two cats, miso and peach. and if i ever get a third one it’ll definitely have a food name too.” a small laugh slipped out as she started relaxing. “i’ve been living alone since i was twenty-four. i adopted miso a couple months ago—someone left him by the back door of the clinic. he was barely bigger than my hand.” she shook her head softly at the memory. “and… yeah, i’m not sure what else to say about myself.” she shrugged before looking back at him. “what about you?”

[honeysriche]

Honey’s fingers moved through Rory’s hair with an easy, affectionate patience, gently separating strands and curling them around her knuckles before letting them fall into place, nudging a piece here, smoothing another there, as if she could already see how it would all come together once it was styled, her touch light and thoughtful rather than fussy, and as she worked the red-haired femme spoke with an open, amused honesty, admitting, “I like confidence. Looks wise I don’t really mind. I like brunettes but it isn’t my top priority. I like people who match my energy,” punctuating it with a grin that felt warm rather than evaluative. Honey tipped her head back and laugh, the sound bright and teasing as she replied, “Isn’t that what some straight girls like doing? Moulding the boy into someone just for them?” her own grin sharp with humour but not unkind, and then her attention drifted back to Rory, her expression softening as she studied the way the light caught in their hair and how the colours suited them so naturally, her fingers giving one last fond curl before she said simply, sincerely, “Your hair is so cute, Ror. I love your colouring,”.

[roryflcres]

it was mesmerizing watching honey’s fingers move through her hair, the careful precision, the gentle focus as she worked the curls into place. rory let herself relax into it, enjoying the sensation as her hair cascaded into soft waves. “confidence? yeah. you’re confident too,” she mused, meeting honey’s eyes through the mirror. “why would you want someone who can’t make decisions?” she added with a small shrug. at her friend’s comment about straight girls, rory laughed, shaking her head. “i have no idea what straight girls even like doing, honey.” she rolled her eyes playfully. “and how exactly am i supposed to mold someone just for me? that sounds insane. plus, haven’t you heard people say there’s something off about him?” she added with a soft chuckle. “and it doesn’t help that i act before i think. it’s like my brain doesn’t process anything before my body just… does something it shouldn’t. so how would i even know how to mold someone? that’s crazy.” when honey complimented her hair, rory smiled warmly. “we can’t all have naturally perfect hair like yours,” she teased, glancing up at her. “thanks though. i think it’s just the color.” with a soft sigh, she stood and wrapped her arms around honey’s neck, hugging her tight for a moment. “thank you,” she said sincerely before pulling back. “i’m actually excited to go out. it’s been a while. i’m putting myself in your hands tonight though—you decide what we’re doing. i think i’m a little rusty.”

[kane-blackthorne]

Kane froze when she stepped outside, like he hadn’t actually expected her to do it. The porch light caught his face—tired, drawn, eyes a little too honest. He swallowed, hands staying firmly at his sides, giving her space. “I didn’t mean,” he started, then stopped himself, exhaling slowly. “I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. About not wanting to hurt you. I’m bad with words when I’m nervous.” His jaw tightened. “I’d never hurt you. I swear. And I know that’s exactly what someone who would says, which doesn’t help.” At her question about how he’d found her, his gaze dropped to the ground. He hesitated, then nodded once, like he’d decided to stop lying. “I’ve seen you walk home,” Kane admitted quietly. “Once. A while ago. From the bus stop.” He looked back up quickly, urgency in his voice. “I only followed you once. I didn’t come close. I just recognised the street. I should’ve told you sooner. I know that’s not okay.” When she wrapped her arms around herself, something in his expression cracked. “I didn't want to be alone,” he said, more softly now, the edge gone. “Because when I am, it’s just me. I'm all I've got. No one would notice if I didn’t show up anywhere anymore.” He let out a small, humorless breath. “I don’t have family that cares. Friends drifted. Some died. Some chose other lives. I can my friends on one finger, she checks in occasionally, but she isn't always nice like you.” His shoulders slumped, like he was finally too tired to hold himself together. “When I’m alone, it feels like I disappear.” Kane looked at her then, not demanding, not angry. Just honest. “I didn’t come here to scare you,” he said. “I came because I didn’t know where else to go. I just wanted a friend." Kane’s shoulders slumped further, the weight in his chest spilling into his voice. He swallowed hard, eyes flicking away for a moment before meeting hers again, raw and unguarded. “I just… I just need someone I can talk too. Someone who doesn’t leave. Someone who notices me.” His hands twitched at his sides, gripping nothing, and his voice cracked just slightly. “Just a friend."

[roryflcres]

her eyes stayed on him as he spoke, as he explained that he truly didn’t want to hurt her. it didn’t make her feel much better—mostly because it was late, she was alone, and he was standing in her garden. it didn’t help that her naive self had stepped outside to be alone with him, as if nothing bad could possibly happen. “it doesn’t help much, no,” she said softly. there was no meanness in her eyes, just honesty. when kane told her how he’d found her—how he’d seen her walking home—her stomach tightened. he’d followed her, at least once, from the bus stop. she must’ve looked worried, because she noticed the urgency in his voice as he quickly added that he knew it wasn’t okay. she had never been in a situation like this before, and if she was being completely honest, she was confused about everything. when he said he didn’t want to be alone, her expression softened. she was alone most of the time and didn’t feel the same way, but she could understand where he was coming from. “okay,” she whispered, the word barely leaving her lips as she tried to gather her thoughts before continuing. as he insisted he just needed a friend—someone who wouldn’t leave like the others had, family or otherwise—she nodded slowly. she knew she was about to do something stupid; she’d always known. swallowing hard, she opened the corridor door. “this is going to sound stupid, but… let’s go inside,” she murmured, stepping into her place. “do you want some tea, coffee, or anything?”

[kane-blackthorne]

Kane froze the moment the door slid open, like he’d been caught mid-thought rather than mid-step. The light caught his face wrong, making his eyes seem darker than they should have been, his presence abrupt enough to steal the air from the space between them. He lifted his hands slowly, palms out—not dramatic, just deliberate. “Uh, hi” he said first, voice low and careful, as if choosing the least alarming words as possible.“Your front door was locked. The latch on the side gate was open. I can fix it if you'd like?" At her second question, his gaze softened despite himself, flicking briefly to the cat in her arms before returning to her face. “I’m here because I don't have anyone else,” he said. Then, after a beat, added, “And because you weren’t at work. I didn't want to be alone with my thoughts tonight." When she asked if he wanted to hurt her, his brow creased, something almost like hurt crossing his features. “No,” he answered immediately, too fast to be rehearsed. “Never that.” He shifted his weight, the gravel beneath his boots making a faint sound. “If I meant you harm, Rory, you wouldn’t be holding a cat and asking questions. I have a respect for you which I don't have for most people." He took a step back, giving her space. “I just wanted to talk,” he said more gently. “If that’s still allowed? I can stay out here if you'd prefer that. I don't mean to scare you or intrude."

[roryflcres]

saying she was surprised to see the man there was an understatement. she had been expecting a lonely night, just her and her cats, probably munching on some overpriced vegan snack that hurt her wallet, but that clearly wasn’t what was happening. she quickly picked peach up, not about to let the cat out when it was that dark, not when she’d end up chasing it around the garden in the middle of the night. “yeah, it’s locked because i don’t want people walking into my place,” she pointed out, because who in their right mind left their door open for people to wander in. rory’s eyebrows furrowed at his words. “don’t worry about the gate, i’ll fix it, but how did you find where i live?” she asked. as he talked about not having anyone else and not wanting to be alone, her expression shifted, worry settling in as her heart started racing too fast in her chest, a quiet reminder telling her to close the door. when he said he would never hurt her, she looked up at him, but then he added that if he meant to hurt her she wouldn’t be standing there, and the choice of words caught her off guard; it was supposed to be reassuring, but somehow it felt creepy instead. the cat meowed in her arms, squirming until she let it go, turning to set it down on the floor farther away from the door. with the kind of naivety that sometimes defined rory, she stepped outside, closing the door behind her and leaving it cracked just a couple of inches, enough not to lock herself out but small enough to keep the cats in. she cared more about that than the fact that the man in front of her had shown up uninvited, with nothing to prove he wasn’t a serial killer straight out of one of the movies she watched. “what do you need?” she asked, wrapping her arms around herself like that might keep the cold out. “why don’t you want to be alone?”

[roryflcres]

it was late, and for once she didn’t have an overnight shift. she was already in her pajamas, hair down in a long pink braid, finally ready to relax. she was feeding miso and peach when she noticed the backyard light flick on, the motion sensor only doing that if something moved out there—usually one of the cats—but both of them were inside, eating. her brows furrowed as she walked toward the glass door and peeked outside. nothing… and then she looked closer. she jumped back, her heart racing in her chest. it couldn’t be true. what was he doing there, and how did he manage to make her jump every single time she saw him? she slid the door open, maybe not the boldest move. “how did you get into my garden?” she asked, eyebrows drawn together. “what are you doing here?” she added softly. as the door opened, one of the cats tried to slip past her, ready to spend time outside like they always did when they heard the door, and rory quickly scooped it up, the cat meowing in protest in her arms. “do you want to hurt me or something?” she asked, her voice tense, it was a stupid question—if he wanted to, he wouldn’t need to answer her at all, he would just do it. @kane-blackthorne

[kane-blackthorne]

Kane tilted his head slightly at her questions, the corners of his mouth bending into that too-soft, too-still smile that never quite reached his eyes. From the outside he looked calm—pleasant, even—but every inch of him was tight, coiled, fighting the instinct that made his nostrils flare every time the scent of animal blood drifted from deeper in the clinic. He looked like an addict trying very hard not to be an addict, clutching the cheap vending machine items like they were the only things keeping him steady. He answered her slowly, voice low and smooth in a way that only made the hairs on her arms rise. “I wasn’t looking for a place to sleep,” Kane explained. “I genuinely thought the clinic was closed. I just needed somewhere quiet to get my head straight. Somewhere empty.” He gave a soft, self-deprecating laugh. “Didn’t expect someone to be working this late.” Her scolding didn’t offend him; instead, he almost seemed amused by it, in that slightly unsettling, polite way he carried himself. “You’re right, it’s not normal for people to wander into places like this,” he admitted. “And I get why you’re suspicious. I just needed to be away from… well, from outside." He gestured vaguely toward the clinic’s back rooms, careful not to stare too long in that direction. “I thought you might have one of these vending machine though.” He lifted his drink as evidence, giving her a small, restrained smile. When she insisted she wasn’t afraid, he didn’t challenge her this time. He simply nodded, accepting her lie without calling it out. “I’m not here to scare you,” Kane said softly. “I’m trying to make sure I’m not a problem for anyone. That’s why I asked about the clinic being open all night.” His eyes lingered on her — respectful, but intense. Kane let out a small, almost embarrassed shrug, the motion loose and human, though the tension beneath his skin never fully faded. “I just thought this place would have more than one person inside if it wasn’t empty,” he admitted, tone casual but edged with that quiet unease he was trying to smother. “I don’t know. Ignore me. I’m clearly not thinking straight.” He gave her a polite, too-controlled smile and nodded toward the drink in his hand. “I should go and stop bothering you,” he added, stepping back a half-step as if preparing to leave. “Thanks for the drink.” His eyes lingered on her for a moment — curious, intent, just a touch too focused to be comfortable. “What was your name again?” he asked, voice soft, almost gentle, like he genuinely wanted to know… though something in him made the question feel heavier than it should. “Just in case I see you around,” he added quickly, noticing how his question might’ve sounded. “Not in a creep way, I swear. I just live not too far from here.”

[roryflcres]

the whole interaction was giving her the creeps, and she still couldn’t process why he was trying to get into the recovery room in the back. if he needed something to eat it would’ve been odd but not alarming, she wouldn’t have cared if he’d just gone inside the clinic to grab something from the vending machine, but there was something in the way he carried himself, something tense about him, and that little tic where he touched his nose made her uneasy. she didn’t want to think it, but something inside her screamed run, while another part of her told her to stay, leaving her deeply confused about the whole situation. she had never had anyone act like that around there; it was usually people coming in the morning or afternoon with their pets, or picking them up after an intervention, never a man just wandering in to get a drink like it was a bar. “there’s more people,” she said softly, “they’re working, i’m just… since the receptionist isn’t here i need to take care of the phone and the animals in the back,” her eyes never leaving him as she scanned his every move. she was basically the equivalent of a nurse there, given the easy tasks when there was no one in distress: feeding the animals, checking on the ones staying overnight for observation, even cuddling kittens and puppies on some nights, but she had never dealt with someone like him. when he started to walk away, she felt bad, worried she might’ve made him uncomfortable. “don’t worry about it,” she brushed it off. when he asked for her name, she swallowed hard. “aurora, but people call me rory,” she said quietly. “okay, see you around then,” she replied, his words made her let out a nervous laugh; she was too unsettled to even ask for his name.

[kane-blackthorne]

Kane didn’t move at first. Not really. Just stood there like a shadow that had forgotten how to breathe. His eyes—dark, unreadable things—remained fixed on her for a heartbeat too long, like he was peeling back every layer she had, one silent second at a time. The corners of his mouth twitched, not quite a smile. More like the ghost of one. “No dog, nor cat” Kane said, voice low and quiet, but edged with something sharp. “Never had one.” His eyes flicked toward the kennels again, toward the scent of fur and blood and heartbeat. They were loud to him—muffled thuds of life behind metal and plastic. “Didn’t want to be seen.” His tone didn’t waver. He wasn’t lying. Just… choosing his words carefully. “Didn’t think anyone would be here this late. Thought the place was closed.” His gaze returned to her, slower this time. Measuring. Unsettling in its stillness." Then, finally, a blink. A small exhale. His head tilted, just a fraction, like he was studying something strange under glass. “You’re quick,” he murmured. “Most people don’t ask questions. They just smile, pretend they’re not uncomfortable, and wait for me to leave. But you?” His eyes dropped to the faint tremble in her hands. “You’re scared—and still talking.” He didn’t say it like it was a compliment. Or a threat. Just… a fact. One that intrigued him more than it should have. Then, without breaking eye contact, he unscrewed the cap on the bottle he’d picked up. The click of plastic twisting open felt loud in the silence. He brought it to his lips and took a slow swig, his throat moving with the swallow — deliberate, unhurried — like he had all the time in the world. He finally lowered the bottle, his gaze never leaving hers. His voice, when he spoke, was quiet but heavy with something unsaid. “I’m not picky with food,” Kane said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I can eat anything.” His other hand brushed against the thighs of his jeans — quick, careless wipes, like he was trying to get something off that wasn’t there. A habit. A tick. The kind of thing someone did when they’d needed to stay busy once — when doing nothing was worse than doing the wrong thing. "So this place is never closed, huh?"

[roryflcres]

there was something in him that was drawing her in, she didn’t know what it was, but something inside her was screaming at her to run. she stared at him, wanting to keep an eye on him since she still didn’t know why he was there or what she was supposed to do in a situation like that—she had never found herself in anything like this before. when he said he didn’t have a dog or a cat, she crossed her arms over her chest. “you didn’t want to be seen and you thought this was closed, why are you even here? this isn’t a park, people can’t just come in and out whenever they want,” she scolded him. “i don’t get it, if your pet was here i’d understand, but being here just because you wanted to be alone? that’s not something people do.” then her face softened—what if he was looking for a place to sleep, what if he didn’t have anywhere to go, maybe that’s why he was here. “were you looking for a place to sleep?” she asked; she had no idea what was going on anymore, and he didn’t look like someone in distress, which only confused her more. “i’m not scared,” she shook her head, even though she was terrified and hated that he could see it. “i’m asking questions because i want to understand what’s going on, since this shouldn’t be happening in the first place,” she pointed out. her light eyes stayed on him as he took a long swig from the drink he’d gotten from the machine. when he asked if the clinic never closed, she tried to look confident. “it can’t close, it’s the only emergency vet clinic in town, we need to stay open in case there’s an emergency,” she explained. “just like hospitals for people,” she added. “why do you want to know?”

[honeysriche]

Honey caught Rory’s eyes in the mirror, a spark of mischief flashing in her gaze just before a cheeky grin began to spread across her lips, slow and knowing, in response to Rory’s comment about continuing to have fun until Miss Right appeared. “I think God’s testing me. Making me wait until someone perfect comes along,” she teased playfully, her tone light but tinged with the kind of irony only someone who’s been patient far too long could muster. The red-haired femme returned her focus to Rory’s hair, carefully wrapping another section around the curler, her fingers precise and practiced, and watching as each soft curl fell gently down Rory’s back once released—like drops of silk cascading into place. “Maybe he’s your destiny. Maybe you’re supposed to fix him,” Honey said with a shrug, her words floating casually in the air, though her expression twisted into something more playful as she scrunched her nose with exaggerated disdain. “God knows not to send me a man. I would make a boy’s life actual hell,” she added with a wicked laugh, her eyes dancing in the mirror, as if daring fate to test her.

[roryflcres]

rory was letting honey do whatever she wanted with her hair, more focused on their conversation than anything else. "good things take time," she mused. "and i'm sure you'll find the perfect girl somewhere, but if i need to look around, what should i keep in mind?" she asked, curious about her friend’s type. at honey’s words, rory’s eyebrows furrowed as she looked at her through the mirror. "my destiny?" she chuckled. "fix him? why would my destiny send me someone i need to fix? so i don’t get bored?" she laughed softly. "oh, don’t worry, i bet he won’t send you a boy—poor guy," she joked. "i’m sure there’s a girl out there hoping destiny throws you her way."

[kane-blackthorne]

Kane followed her into the hallway, his stride unhurried but oddly sharp, like every step was pulled taut by something unseen. The glow of the vending machine lit his face in washed-out blues and whites, catching the faint twitch at his jaw as he tried to keep his composure. His fingers flexed at his sides before he shoved them into his pockets. At her question, his eyes lifted to hers—dark, restless, too intense for comfort. For a heartbeat, he didn’t answer, his throat working like he had words caught there. Then, with a sniff, he finally spoke. “I’m fine,” Kane said, voice low and rough-edged, almost like gravel. He gave a small shake of his head, running a hand over his face before swiping at his nose again. “Just… been a long night. Haven’t exactly had what I need. I'm just ... starving." He let out something between a laugh and a breath, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Makes me come off weird, I know. Don’t worry, I’m not gonna cause trouble. I just wanna get some food and I'll be out of here." The machine hummed beside them, and he leaned against it with too-casual posture, like his body was fighting the urge to move closer to her. His gaze flicked toward the animals behind the closed doors, then back to her, his expression tight. “On edge is one way to put it,” he admitted, his smile pulling crooked. “I’ve just got… cravings I can’t really explain.” He looked away quickly, eyes shadowed. “But you don’t need to call anyone. I promise.” His voice dropped, softer, almost pleading now. “Last thing I want is to scare you.” Kane dug into his pocket, fishing out a few crumpled coins that clinked faintly in the quiet corridor. He shoved them into the slot with a kind of restless focus, pressing the buttons without even really looking at the options. First came the rattle of a packet of crisps, dropping to the tray below. Then another, the sound sharper, louder than it needed to be. He crouched to collect them, his movements taut but oddly precise, like he was forcing his body to go through the motions of something normal. His voice came out low, edged with that strange mix of charm and unease. “So…” he drawled, gesturing faintly with the bottle in hand, “they leave a little princess looking girl like you working this late on your own?” The words hung in the air, casual on the surface, but weighted with something that felt like more than simple curiosity. Without thinking, he rubbed under his nose again—the same subtle tic he’d been trying to ignore all night. The movement was quick, almost compulsive, like an addict pacing for a fix, and his dark eyes flicked toward the cluster of animals behind the closed doors. He inhaled sharply through his nose, throat tightening just slightly, a quiet tension threading through his posture. His hunger was there, simmering under the surface, sharp and insistent, but he kept his movements casual enough to mask the craving. “Just curious, that’s all."

[roryflcres]

she couldn’t tell what it was exactly — the sharpness in his stare, the twitch in his movements, or maybe the strange stillness that came between them — but something about him made her uneasy. it wasn’t enough to make her throw him out, though every instinct in her body screamed for her to close the door and lock it. something else kept her there, something she couldn’t explain, more instinct than reason. when he said he didn’t have what he needed, her stomach tightened — that wasn’t something a sober person usually said. maybe he was an addict. maybe her gut feeling wasn’t wrong this time. her heartbeat was pounding in her ears, but she nodded anyway, trying to sound calm. “okay, don’t worry,” she said softly, though her voice trembled just enough to give her away. the way he glanced at the animals behind her made her even more tense — there was something off in it, something that didn’t sit right. craving. the word echoed in her head. she told herself to breathe, to stop overreacting, but then the sound of the bottle hitting the floor made her jolt like she’d been shot. she pressed a hand to her chest, cursing herself quietly. relax. you’re fine. you’re fine. but she wasn’t. his words, little princess looking girl… alone, replayed in her mind, and she swallowed hard. she noticed his eyes flick toward the door again, and she forced herself to speak. “people do night shifts around here,” she said, clearing her throat when her voice cracked. “a hospital vet — works like a regular one, just… no humans. emergencies can come in at any time.” her gaze didn’t leave his face. “why were you in the back?” she asked, her filter gone now. “did you bring your dog in and you’re just checking on them? is that why you keep looking at the door?” she pushed, though she already knew the answer — she’d never seen him come through it. “if you’re hungry, i don’t know why you’d come here. vending machine food isn’t exactly the best thing this town has to offer.”

[honeysriche]

Honey stood by the counter, heating up the curlers as the soft hum of them filled the quiet room, glancing over at Rory with a faint smirk when she asked if there was someone special she was trying to impress. “No one at the moment,” she admitted casually, the corners of her mouth lifting with a teasing glint in her eyes. “There might be one day, but right now I’m just living in the moment and taking home any pretty girl who seems into me—feeling it out, seeing where it goes,” she added with a soft laugh, clearly unbothered and playful about her own spontaneity. Her eyes drifted down to the curlers just as the light shifted from red to green, signalling they were ready. Without missing a beat, the red-haired femme moved toward Rory with practiced confidence, her fingers selecting the pieces of hair she wanted to curl. She wrapped each section delicately around the wand, knowing exactly how she wanted Rory’s hair to fall—loose, soft curls that framed her face perfectly. Her touch was careful but certain, her focus sharp despite the ease of her movements. “Are you dressing up for anyone in particular?” she teased, her tone light as she glanced at Rory’s reflection in the mirror. “You’re always looking like a pretty doll lately.”

[roryflcres]

as honey started heating up the curlers, rory tilted her head back, her long pink hair spilling down her back to make it easier for her friend to work. she listened quietly, nodding along, because she always believed in happy endings — she was a hopeless romantic, and there was nothing she could do about it. “you’ll find your girl, i’m sure you will,” rory promised softly. “but i hope you know i fully support having fun until that girl shows up,” she added, glancing at honey’s reflection in the mirror. her eyes stayed on her as she curled each strand, mesmerized by the ease and confidence in her movements. rory couldn’t imagine being that fearless — she’d be too worried about burning someone’s scalp. when honey turned the question back on her, rory’s gaze met hers through the mirror. “no,” she admitted with a small shake of her head, “it’s been a while since i’ve gone on a date.” her voice dropped slightly, thoughtful. “i did meet a nice-looking guy, but honestly… he was kind of scary. i don’t think i want to see him again.” she hesitated, chewing her lip. “he snuck into the back of the vet, and he looked like an addict or something. i don’t even know what he was doing there.” a soft pause, then she sighed. “he was handsome, though… he had this old vibe to him. i don’t know.”

[honeysriche]

( @roryflcres )

“You should wear the little white dress—it compliments your hair really nicely,” she said with an easy confidence, already strolling over to where the two dresses hung. Her fingers trailed over the fabric as she stopped beside the white one, tilting her head slightly as she appraised it. “I like the cut on this as well,” she added, gesturing to the subtle dip of the neckline. “It’s showing a lot at the top but without going overboard, and the bottom of it cuts mid-thighs. It'll be a little flowy,” she explained, giving Rory a quick glance before turning to point toward the nearby vanity chair with an exaggerated flourish. “Have a seat, milady,” she said with a playful smirk, her tone light and teasing, clearly having far too much fun with the moment. Honey loved make up, hair and fashion. Her room full of vogue magazines and coffee books on fashion and the way it grew throughout the years.

[roryflcres]

at her suggestion rory nodded, a soft smile tugging at her lips. the way honey had answered so quickly made her think she really meant it, even if she already trusted the redhead with her life. “i trust you,” she chuckled softly, “i guess going overboard isn’t the worst, but thanks for letting me keep something to myself.” her gaze drifted back to the dress—it looked like it had been made for her, carrying that subtle princess touch rory adored, like she was the heroine in one of the stories her mom used to read her. “hair first,” she nodded, walking over to the chair and settling down. she caught honey’s reflection in the mirror, tilting her head slightly. “i don’t want to sound like you never dress this good, but… is there anyone special out there you’re trying to surprise? because you look amazing.” her smile warmed as she added, “and of course, do whatever you want with my hair.”

[kane-blackthorne]

Kane stepped into the cold light, his eyes scanning the room with a calm intensity. “Leaving the door open is kind of … careless, you should probably be more careful, you never know who could be lurking” he said, voice low. When Rory offered food, he let out a dry laugh. “Sandwich or vending machine,” he muttered. “Not much of a spread, but it’ll have to do.” His gaze stayed locked on her, sharp but not unkind, like he was trying to read more than just her words. At her concern, he shook his head slightly. “No ambulance needed. Just… different hunger,” he said, voice calm but distant. There was something restless in his posture, like a storm held back just behind those quiet eyes. Then, almost absentmindedly, Kane wiped under his nose with the back of his hand—a restless gesture to distract himself from the sharp, lingering smell of animal blood that hung in the vet’s office. He took a small step closer, voice dropping into something more hesitant. “Could you… walk me to the vending machine? I know it’s late. I don’t mind staying here if you’d rather I not wander around. I probably seem like a right weirdo hanging around out here this late.” Then, he sniffed again —quick, almost desperate—like an addict chasing a fix. He wiped under his nose again, restless and twitchy. “I’m just… starving.”

[roryflcres]

the girl took a deep breath as he stepped farther into the room. “i’m normally not this careless,” she muttered, almost like she was trying to convince herself, because even if the back door was usually unlocked, she’d never walked in on a man lingering in the shadows before. “it’s too late to offer anything else,” she added with another steadying breath. the way his eyes stayed fixed on her sent a prickle down her spine—something about him was off. was he high? upset? she couldn’t tell, but whatever it was made her uneasy. when he took a step closer her heart stuttered, her chest tightening with unease at the way he looked at her, like there was a different kind of hunger there. she tried not to let her fear show. “sure,” she agreed quickly, nodding when he asked about the vending machine, telling herself it was better than letting him linger back here with all the animals. but when he swiped under his nose again, that same strange tension gripped her gut. “okay,” she said quietly, slipping past him to push the door open and leaving it ajar for him to follow. she led the way into the hall, pointing toward the vending machine stationed beside a cluster of plastic waiting chairs. “are you sure you’re okay?” she asked finally, turning just enough to look at him. “i won’t call the police or anything,” she added, her voice soft but edged with caution. “you just seem a little… on edge.”

[honey-richie]

closed starter for: @roryflcres

Honey had invited Rory over to her apartment to get ready before their night out clubbing, the atmosphere already buzzing with anticipation as music thumped softly in the background, setting the mood for the evening ahead. Sitting at her vanity table, Honey leaned closer to the mirror, carefully sweeping a golden highlighter across her cheekbones, the glow catching the light just right as she perfected her look. The red-haired femme moved with a practiced elegance, each brushstroke deliberate, her expensive makeup arrayed neatly around her like the tools of an artist at work. Her silver top shimmered brilliantly under the vanity bulbs, every tilt of her shoulders reflecting in the glass as if the fabric itself was alive with light. She glanced at Rory through the mirror, lips curving into a playful smile, before asking with casual warmth, “Do you want me to do your hair once I’ve finished with this?”

[roryflcres]

she’d had the longest shift, and honestly, she wasn’t sure if she was going to survive a whole night out without dozing off either on the way to the club or on the way back. but a plan was a plan, and while honey was effortlessly doing her makeup, the pink-haired girl sat there staring at her outfit options like it was life or death. “if my hair wasn’t naturally pink i’d be annoyed, ‘cause i can’t figure out what actually looks better,” she joked, glancing at honey. “i’d love you doing my hair,” she added with a small nod, “but first—when you finish, help me out with this,” she groaned before dramatically throwing herself onto honey’s bed.

[kane-blackthorne]

Kane didn’t answer right away. He was there — somewhere in the dark beyond that crooked back door. A slow exhale leaked through his nose, wet and strained, like he was trying to remember how to be in his body again. It made a sound like wind scraping glass. His eyes—once wrong, cloudy with some far-off color—flashed and shimmered, then flicked back to human as he sucked in a sharp breath through his nostrils. The kind of inhale that rattled like it hurt. Silence. Then, finally, from just past the edge of the doorway, his voice slithered out — low, tired, amused. Like he hadn’t spoken aloud in days. "You left it open, didn’t you?” The tone danced between teasing and accusation. But there was no smile in it. Just the sound of someone who didn’t quite belong to the moment, like he was only half-tethered to now. He shifted — a soft drag of worn shoes on concrete. The whisper of fabric. Something metallic clinked once, faint. Still out of sight. He stood into view - large dark silhouette. “You got food back here?” he asked, sniffing, wiping his finger underneath his nose.

[roryflcres]

when there wasn’t an answer right away, rory couldn’t deny that her heart started racing. she should’ve closed that door earlier, but she’d been busy, distracted… she forgot. when someone finally replied, the sound didn’t ease her nerves—if anything, she wished it had just been the wind. she glanced around the room; there wasn’t much she could use if things went sideways. she took a cautious step forward. “yeah, i did,” she said softly, like it explained everything. “no one really uses it,” she added, as if that justified leaving the door open. when the person finally stepped into the cold light of the room, she suddenly felt small. “food?” she echoed, blinking a couple times. “uhh, this isn’t a restaurant. i can make you a sandwich or… there’s a vending machine out front,” she offered, trying to sound casual. her eyes flicked over the person again, trying to read them. “are you okay? do you need me to call someone or an ambulance or… something?” at this point, she wasn’t sure if she was overreacting—or not reacting enough.

[roryflcres]

✧ a girl's best friends ✧

cold. rory had only been covering night shifts for emergencies a couple of months, and most nights passed in a quiet haze of charting and late checkups. but that evening, just after midnight, she got a call from someone who had been driving the old road past the woods—a box on the shoulder had caught their eye, sagging under the rain. they’d stopped, curious, and found a tiny kitten inside: soaked, shaking, barely responsive. “he’s breathing, but not moving much,” the voice on the phone had said, and that was enough. rory told them to bring him in. when they arrived, the kitten was nothing more than a soggy patch of fur and bones wrapped in a towel. he was maybe five weeks old, scrawny and dark, his coat streaked with bits of dirt and old leaves, his pupils blown wide. he had thick discharge crusted around both eyes—not just sleepiness, but something that made them sticky and irritated. he could barely open them. his ears twitched weakly at the sound of her voice, but he didn’t move otherwise. his breathing was shallow, and he was covered in fleas. rory got to work immediately—warm water, gentle soap, tweezers, tiny cloths. she cleaned the grit from his face, flushed his eyes with saline, massaged warmth back into his paws. she laid him on a soft towel inside a little carrier she’d padded with an old flannel blanket, one she kept around just for cases like this. she sat by him, eating lukewarm soup from a paper carton, keeping her eyes on his rising chest. sometime past 3 a.m., just as she’d leaned back to rest her eyes, she felt a sudden warmth on her lap. the kitten had crawled out of the open carrier and curled up in a tight little ball against her leg, still trembling slightly, but determined. she froze. when she tried to stroke him, he hissed—a weak, breathy little thing—but didn’t move away. she smiled to herself, lowered her hand, and just let him stay. “i hope you know i’m taking you home,” she whispered into the soft light. “peach is going to have opinions about this.” she glanced at her half-eaten miso soup. “you’re not green, or salty, but... miso. it kind of fits.” she looked down at him again—this tiny, strange, stubborn survivor. “yeah. you’re definitely a miso.”

a week later, miso was no longer the fragile little thing from that night, though he was still skittish and unpredictable. he had the mottled fur of a calico, mostly dark with burnt orange along his back legs, and a blunt little tail that ended too early, like it had been broken and healed on its own. he didn’t trust easily—he’d dart at any sudden noise, vanish under the furniture at footsteps—but he had started curling against rory’s chest when she sat still long enough, and he followed her like a shadow from room to room. the day she brought him home, peach was sprawled in his usual spot on the windowsill, fat and unimpressed. he was an old orange tabby with the kind of energy that moved only when it had to, and rory wasn’t sure how he’d react to the invasion of this skittering, half-tailed whirlwind. she set the carrier down and unzipped it slowly. miso crept out with all the caution of someone stepping into enemy territory—low to the floor, ears twitching, paws placed like he was expecting a trap. peach didn’t move. he just opened one eye and blinked. miso froze. there was a tense second where nothing happened. then peach, in true peach fashion, yawned, stretched one paw toward miso lazily like a king granting permission, and rolled onto his side without a sound. miso stared. then, inch by inch, he crept toward peach, body still tense but curious now. he sniffed peach’s flank, got a lazy tail flick in return, and eventually sat down two feet away, watching him like he still wasn’t sure what kind of creature this was. rory stayed still in the doorway, heart full in a quiet, swelling way. later that night, she found them on the couch—peach taking up most of the space, miso curled awkwardly in the crook behind his back legs, eyes finally closed in sleep. it wasn’t love, not yet. but it wasn’t war either. that was good enough for now.

PEACH & MISO

[kane-blackthorne]

The scent hit him like a slow-burning fuse — thick, coppery, real. Kane leaned back against the side wall of the vet clinic, hood drawn low over his brow, casting his face in sharp, unnatural shadow. His breath was steady, controlled, but his eyes… his eyes kept flicking toward the side window, sharp as knives and twice as dangerous. There was blood in there. Not spilled, not wasted — just present. Warm in the veins of caged animals, masked beneath the sterile tang of antiseptic. It called to him anyway. From the outside, he probably looked like a junkie trying not to cave. Hooded, tense, fingers curling at his sides like they had nothing better to do than twitch. His boots scraped lightly against the pavement as he shifted his stance for the third time in two minutes. He muttered something low under his breath. It wasn’t a curse. Not exactly. Just a warning. Probably to himself. He tilted his head again, eyes narrowing through the glass. The back room was quiet — for now. His hand hovered over the door handle — and his eyes flared. Just for a second, a deep crimson red flicker lit the darkness beneath his hood. Something primal. Something barely leashed. Click. He twisted the handle, slow and silent, every movement careful. Intentional. The door creaked — almost imperceptibly — and Kane froze.

[roryflcres]

rory was the one in charge of emergencies that night at the vet. that happened every now and then, but she had her own schedule, of course—posted on the main wall in pretty font and colorful letters. that was for her. but she liked taking a moment for these kinds of shifts. she cleaned the place, swept, mopped, and once the front was ready, she had to check on the little guys post-surgery, feed the ones who’d be picked up soon, and give treatment to the ones who needed it. the night had been slow, which was great. slow didn’t mean no one’s pet was suffering, but it did mean there was room to breathe. rory took one last glance around the front and crossed the first two items off her list. she grabbed her things and walked to the back. she heard movement—no surprise, some of the little angels got excited the second they saw or smelled the pink-haired girl. “oh, hey,” she smiled, walking closer to one of the gates, only for her eyes to lock on the back door. it was slightly open. her brows furrowed. her heart thundered. she swore that door had been closed. “hello?”