closed for: @heyits-asher
where: out by the pool at aiden's, during the world's most unfun double birthday party
Drip, drop, drip, drop.
There's a Hansel and Gretel'd trail of blood drops that follows Uly from the kitchen through the back door, crimson breadcrumbs that no one would ever choose to follow -- except for the one person he was seeking out.
When he tells a gaggle of four to move, they do so without complaint and he pushes passed through with unbridled aggression as he spots Asher near the water.
"You."
The easy affection that usually slipped into his tone that made them Uly and Asher, Asher and Uly has vanished along with Uly's better judgement as his mind races faster than he can discern.
There's a red handprint on his white shirt where his damaged hand pats just above his chest, like he could tap out some sort of Morse code message to himself that he might actually be able to hear, even the low effort motion causing a painful flare that felt like it spread right up to his elbow. He can't bring himself to care if he's broken it.
( What magnitude is the break of a hand following the break of a heart? )
"You trying to fuck my ex?"