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"are you alright?" coen had put a lot of work into being alright himself, he could spot it a mile away. he wasn't the type to stop and talk to strangers, it gave him more anxiety than it helped but he still stopped when he saw her, hands stuffed in his pockets as he looked her over. @dozenzofrozez
"is it supposed to burn though? what happens when we set fire to everything around us, what happens when we hurt each other with that fire?" coen had always been too guarded, too scared to let anyone in, let anyone hurt him. "what if we aren't meant to be?" were they deluding themselves?
coen felt like shit, he'd taken more of a beating in tonight's fight than he had anticipated, his burgeoning black eye and the half ass stitched cut across his cheek only evidence of that fact. he hadn't stuck around for the afterparty though, rather heading to the closest 24 hour diner to get something to eat. the diner was mostly dead, being the middle of the night, so he was taken by surprise when the stranger in the booth just down from his spoke to him, arm resting over the opposite bench as his. "shit, what? i was a million miles away." he gave a nervous laugh. @mysteryoflovc
coen hadn't let steve patch him up after the fight, he couldn't party like he used to. he wasn't about to give up fighting, but it was something he had to hide from most of the people in his life. the towel pressed to his nose was soaked with blood, he'd have to throw it out. his key clicked in the door and he shambled into the living room when he saw them. fuck. "what the hell are you doing here? i told you not to come over when i'm out." nose started to bleed again. what the fuck was tonight even?
"i'm not trying to start a fight here, so i don't know why you are." coen crossed his arms over his chest. argumentative and incendiary, rory was never afraid to call him out, but that didn't mean he liked to admit to his own faults. @cxsmicwrites
i am not feeling drafts today. i do however have the most muse i've had in AGES and it's all for the eden family. comment for a starter from one of the eden's:booker eden who wins father of the year just by virtue of being the only parent left and loving his kids endlessly. terrified of how much his son is like him and never able to tell rory how he would have failed without her help after his wife left. rory eden is emotionally unavailable and she would never blame it on her mother but her siblings all know it is a direct result of their mother walking out on them. she is petrified of letting anyone without the eden name in. coen eden was doomed to be his father, he figured that out just before he dropped out and started training for underground fights. rory has done everything she could but josie gave up a long time ago. you can't save someone who doesn't want to be saved. josie eden had so little of the trauma in her, but there's a trickle down effect and it hit josie hard when she became a teenager, having an affair with a teacher, and then again when she ended up tangled up with her boss that gave her her daughter.
open to all! ft. coen eden! (jack o'connell. thirty three. he/him. pansexual. fighter.)
"no, no, you don't get to be mad at me right now!" coen said, hands held up less in defense and more as if to push them away. "i told you who i am when we first met, you don't get to be mad at me now that you have to actually see it." he said, only pausing to wipe the blood from his lip.
coen had only lived in the apartment for a few weeks now, it wasn't like him to have a favorite part of living there, and his favorite part certainly couldn't be the stranger who did laundry at the same time as him twice a week. it was incidental of course, pure coincidence, but then he figured out their schedule and started adjusted his own accordingly. and he never said a thing as they stood in the massive laundry suite on the third floor of the building. their apartments were across from one another, and by the nature of what he did for a living, he rarely had a run in, and when he did, he was bloodied and bruised and too scared to say anything. he had no reason to suspect that after five weeks of silence there would be any reason to break it, standing over the laundry basket as he added stain remover that josie had given him to wash the blood out of his clothes. their voice broke through his thoughts though, trying to focus on the blood rather than the flutter in his chest as he stole glances over the washing machines. | @wutheringdevotion
