🔪 🔪 It’s all...it’s all so fucked up. Stupid goddamn Jesus McFuckface Christianballs with those stupid eyes and that stupid face and that stupid...everything. There are a lot of reasons that Robert hates himself, but the fact that he misses Joseph motherfucking Christiansen definitely sits in the top ten of a very long list. So does the fact that he can still tell when something’s off with the other. So does the fact that he...fucking cares.
It’s noon. He’s up early. He never went to sleep. He’s already...been drinking. He hasn’t really stopped since last night. And now he’s sitting in a goddamn church parking lot waiting for a goddamn minister. He’s not even a human being anymore. He’s just a pile of bones and decay and vacant hopes that have long since abandoned him.
When he finally sees Joseph walk out, he doesn’t waste a second. He has no plan, but...but then he’s got a hold of that dumb fucking polo (oh, he actually remembers what that one looks like on his floor), and he’s got the other up against the wall. He doesn’t apologize. Doesn’t let up. “Tell me.” He's demanding. No room for arguing. No room for more avoiding. Tell me.
Tell me what’s wrong. Tell me. Please tell me. Tell me you’re okay.
@boatknxts. continued.
