#freksh0w

[diedindulvey]

“If you run, I will find you.”

Ethan weighs his options, eyes flickering to the door for a moment. He's already considering where he could go; there's not many options. Ethan's never been a social butterfly. He doesn't have any friends whose homes he can just show up at, especially if there's a risk he's going to be followed by a fucking murderer. His family is states away, and- again- the being followed by a murderer thing. Well, maybe if he goes to his brother- no, no, that's fucked up. He can't do that to his brother and he doesn't have any cousins he hates enough to risk putting in danger. If he knew where his asshole boss lives.... but he doesn't. Dammit.

Ethan scowls and crosses his arms like a petulant child. He'll think of something, but it might take a bit. "Yeah, yeah; you're super tough and scary." He rolls his eyes and huffs, slouching back in his chair. "So if I can't go anywhere without you following me, then what's the plan? Keeping a dude is a big responsibility, I need food and water and walkies every day."

[diedindulvey]

@freksh0w and the unkillable asshole

Wake up, go to work, go home, maybe dinner, go to bed, rinse, repeat, repeat, repeat. Twice a week he donates plasma; an easy enough way to make ends meet. It's where he met Mia, the charming facility head who he happened to strike up a conversation with after a few weeks. Monotonous. Peaceful.

Today was a donate day, getting him home later than usual because of it. Especially after their weird system glitch; he had to redo a physical and give a couple blood samples. But, fuck it, he got an extra $50 for the inconvenience- meaning he also treated himself to some fast food on the way home. Greasy, unhealthy, delicious. Whatasized with a sweet tea. And a brownie. Little shit like that to spice up his week really make it all worth it. Which might be kind of depressing if he ever stopped to think about it- a thing Ethan never fucking does if he can help it.

He enjoys an edible when he gets home, then his meal. He should have ended his night with a nice, long shower and maybe some reality show about baking or some shit, but no. Instead he makes it as far as his bedroom before blacking out, a sudden loud bang the last thing he hears.

Ethan doesn't know how long before he wakes up with the kind of headache that usually means he's had, like, five too many drinks. He groans, tries to remember what the fuck he did last night. It can't have been good; there's- Ethan pauses, slowly turning his head to look at his hand. A gun? What the absolute-?? He scrambles off of the bed, staring wide-eyed at the blood stains in his room, then at the gun in his hand. It's not his.

Ethan tosses the gun on the bed as he backs out of the room, trying to figure out what the fuck. He's too focused on that to notice he's not alone in the small house. Not until he literally bumps into someone. Ethan whips around to see what- who the fuck- green eyes blink dumbly at the stranger. "Who're you?"

[diedindulvey]

💬

"FUCK THAT GUY, FUCK THAT GUY, FUCK THAT GUY.

"....if he's gonna keep me like a fucking dog he'd better at least get good fucking treats or I'm gonna chew up all his shit."

[diedindulvey]

“You don’t trust me? Good. You shouldn’t.”

Ethan leans a little closer, green eyes wide and eyebrows practically into his hairline. "You tried to kill me," he says slowly, either amazed or annoyed that this even has to be said, "why would I trust you?"

He sits back, dragging his hands down his face. "Actually, I think there's a web comic and maybe a Disney movie about something like this." Okay, those are more about 'falling in love' than 'trusting', but still.