#pytki

[skrytyy-blog]

"Pull over, let me drive for a while."

Aleks cracked a smile. “You take your time with your naps.” He scanned the highway, looking for a chance to merge lanes and pull over on the side of the road. While Aleks merged, he popped a fruity tart in his mouth. Kevin had stumbled across these tangy little snacks shopping for supplies. 

To put it simply, they had to turn around and buy more.

Aleks slowed the RV to a stop, flicked the hazard lights on, and unbuckled. He’s tired as shit.

“I’m tired as shit.”

[skrytyy-blog]

—"Aleks, I need your help finding a wallet."

“Oh okay.”

A wallet. Implying the wallet is not Kevin’s. Why he cares is a mystery.

Aleks wouldn’t care.

“What’s it look like?”

[skrytyy-blog]

What the shit happened with the flower shop dude

[skrytyy-blog]

웃

웃: what my muse would leave to people in their will

He doesn’t have very many belongings. He’s got a hoodie and a knife. Those are his prized possessions.

He’d want his hoodie burned.

And he’d want his knife to be cast into the sea because he’s fucking dramatic.

But if he had to give something. Kevin gets the knife, let’s be real.

[skrytyy-blog]

🔫 reverse B>

The shot echoed through the area.

The road trip took them to Louisiana. They haven’t been gone too long before they crossed through a very dangerous state for Aleks. He knew he shouldn’t have taken Kevin to this place. They got caught hardly five minutes into the gas station only because there was a fucking cop fueling his car. 

He recognized Aleks and Aleks knew he was seen. So he had taken Kevin and ran with him.

The cop must have assumed he was an accomplice.

Because the shot fired and Kevin is down. Not Aleks, but Kevin.

Why.

Aleks watched as his world crashed around him, almost literally. Everything seemed to lose it’s color, slow down, and the sound dulled. Maybe the sound part was just a side effect of gunfire.

He couldn’t stop for anything if he wanted to live. Aleks severed the emotional ties he formed with the now-dead man beside him, and let go of his wrist. He kept running.

He knows Kevin is dead.

He can mourn later.

[skrytyy-blog]

Nico just fucking fell asleep on call I’m

[skrytyy-blog]

—"Aleks?" Kevin brings this up after they've had lunch, a few days after the 'accident', and he's humming to himself as he comes back in the bedroom. —"I think it's time to take off the gauze."

“Fucking finally. It’s getting so damn irritating.”

Aleks bounced to the edge of the bed and presented his face —the gauze mostly— to Kevin. Please get this awful stuff off me.

I want to see my scar.

[skrytyy-blog]

Oh, that's awkward. Kevin tips his head down to rub the back of his neck, embarrassed and perhaps a little ashamed. (Not really. He's nothing to be ashamed for. It's not like he can help it, any ways.) —"I'm not meaning to." He says, though it feels... Not enough. —"I'll work on it, though." Because Aleks said.

“Thank you.”

He doesn’t want Kevin to fake reactions for him, just actually let the natural ones show. It’s a very important thing to Aleks. Very important.

Who knows, maybe he’ll be able to relax a little more about the whole killing thing knowing how Kevin really acts.