randomly assigned angst for sadists
37. my muse confesses to being a drug addict
he’d planned this out very carefully. trade away apart of their income from clothing repairs to the ark’s black market in exchange for those precious, ever-dwindling LITTLE WHITE PILLS. then, proceed to hide them unnder the mattress of his cot. but LAST NIGHT, he’d gotten careless. he’d left the bottle, of all places, non his bedside table.
and of course, his mother found it. she always found everything.
❛ MOM, the —— those are mine. ❜ fingernails dig into his palm as he struggles with conveying the situation he’d hidden from her for YEARS. ❛ it’s not what it looks like, i just ------ i ------ i can’t sleep, ❜ he admits guiltily, mouth going dry. for some reason, he feels particuarly VULNERABLE: after years of trying to be the strong one, the protective one, he suddenly feels incredibly WEAK.
❛ i get these ... dreams, and they make them go away. ❜