❝ yeah, real mature, jackass. got anymore harsh digs? ❞ ceruleans roll, tired eyes narrowing with jaw clenched. UNLIKELY PAIRING: hardly alike, yet always ending up in each other’s ubiety. she slumps figure against tree, and it’s only for a second BUT IT COMES ALIVE! here comes a branch wrapping itself around her throat, reflex: digits delving into wood, pulling it away with maximum force. she panics, lunges herself towards the other, ceruleans widened with blatant anger.
now, she doesn’t mean to blame him ( . . . ) BUT IT’S WHAT SHE DOES. they both glance back at supposed life-force, yet it’s calm. as if she wasn’t getting CHOKED by it five seconds ago! she glares at him, grabbing him by the hem of his shirt, dragging him RIGHT TO WHERE SHE WAS. ❝ why is it, whenever i’m with you, i nearly get FUCKED IN THE ASS. is this an ex? ARE YOU BEING HAUNTED BY YOUR EX, ASH? if it’s YOU she wants dead, i don’t mind helping her. ❞