@goxinsane // kirk x briar
Kirk could hardly sleep last night. He’d had makeshift dinner ready for the two of them, a feast from their favorite Chinese restaurant to commemorate his biweekly payday only growing cold as the hours went on and even some of his ten-minute cake mix cookies he’d prided himself on perfecting without burning their apartment down. He ended up shoving those things in the fridge after eating half a pint of noodles, so dangerously low for his usually ravenous appetite.
Maybe she forgot, he didn’t know, and it honestly shouldn’t matter so much, but Briar never came home the night before, and so Kirk couldn’t sleep peacefully. He tossed and turned in his hurricane of bed sheets and pillows before he rendered the whole attempt FUBAR, throwing himself up and distracting himself with something else. He turned on the television and sat up, mindlessly watching and munching on some snacks.
The sun began rising when he decided to head outside of his window, perching on the overhanging rooftop of his apartment level. Sketchbook on the shingles and pencil in hand, he sketched out some half-hearted panels of scattered comic book scenes, though nothing he produced ever made him satisfied. He was frustrated. Briar either flaked or disappeared for good, and Kirk couldn’t really blame her for this one. He should’ve known better than to get too close to her again; before long, she would be heading off to another couch. It was his mistake to get attached to his once-best friend.











