“What the fuck is that?!”“What the fuck is that?!”“What the fuck is that?!”“What the fuck is that?!”“What the fuck is that?!”“What the fuck is that?!”“What the fuck is that?!”“What the fuck is that?!”“What the fuck is that?!”“What the fuck is that?!”“What the fuck is that?!”
Gemini must have pestered Dead Boy with the same question twenty times within the past hour. And he was getting real tired of it, gosh darn it! His answers began as “I don’t know what you’re talking about”s and slowly transformed into irritated “It’s nothing”s. It’s certainly not a gift for your upcoming birthday, Gemini. He’d been attempting to hide it away all day, but with homelessness comes lack of hiding spaces.
The younger man had been saving up for two months just to be able to afford a pair of nice sneakers. And not just any old sneakers, but sneakers of his brother’s favorite brand. At least, it was their favorite brand in their past lives. Before everything went to shit. And not just crusty, dry shit. But the shit you step on when your new puppy’s got the runs, and it leaves a liquidy fat one in the middle of your bedroom. And your foot sloshes right through it in the middle of the night during a mission to get water. Yeah, that kind of shitty turn of events. And now he’s trying to shove the shoes inside his cramped backpack.
“Leave me alone already. ‘The fuck away from me!”











