OKAY, MAYBE YOU WERE FUCKING SPIRALING! there’s goddamn . . . whatever the fuck running around the campgrounds & for all of the bear jokes you’ve made tonight, you don’t actually want to fucking die by one. “i never thought fucking super - charged, extremely pissed off bears would be the fucking way i go . . . make sure they engrave that on my tombstone, dyls. i’m serious. if i die by these fucking things and nobody even knows about it, i’m going to be so fucking pissed. it’s got to be like top ten fucking deaths too, right? a little ----- wh ----”
pacing is brought to a halt and breath catches in throat, you barely register @amputeer even grabbing you let alone grabbing your face. his hands are warm & a little soft & they do a good enough job of grounding you. your own hand stills in the air from the expressiveness of them prior, and eyes hold his gaze through big lenses once you’ve blinked yourself back into the moment.
chest is rising and falling at a steady pace, lips slightly parted to expel soft breaths. gone are the thoughts of bears & the very real possibility of being eaten by one, opting instead to think about dylan’s hands & dylan’s closeness & dylan . . . you barely register the way your gaze drops to his lips until you’re realizing you have to glance back up. “ . . . what’s the plan now, dyl?”
[ FACE ] : receiver won’t stop talking. in an attempt to get them to stop, sender grabs their face, underestimating the intensity of the act.















