[ bloody ] , [ guard ] & [ sleepy ]
[ bloody ] for your muse coming to my muse with blood stains .
it was a dangerous game to play, turning up at one another’s houses – what with being a diablo and a reaper, of course. it was perhaps a little less dangerous due to it being pitch black outside, albeit, but christy still looked somewhat apprehensive as he came to his front door. opening it, however, and seeing what was in front of him was a completely different story. brittany, teary-eyed and stained with blood and cj stood stunned, eyes staring at the brunette in disbelief. surely, though, the blood began to bubble.
“who did this?” he asked, gently grabbing the girl’s shirt and pulling her inside. closing the door, christy surveyed her upset expression and his hands lifted, hovering around her cheeks but not touching them – as if touching them would perhaps hurt her. “what happened to you?” he pushed, a look of almost panic seen underlying the slow-build of anger in his eyes. “tell me, darlin’,” cj finally whispered, the soldier in him disappearing.
[ guard ] for your muse to step between my muse and danger .
unfortunately, the whole ‘gang’ thing oftentimes meant that trouble was coming your way. and with cj, it was probably a little too often. with a fight that had broken out just down from the dingy, dark bar he sat at with brittany, he’d been quick to try and encourage the brunette to leave with him, but felt his stomach plummet as she refused. of course, brittany would refuse him. though, the idea of staying to see what the fuss about turned out to be the stupidest idea ever, as a bottle flew across the bar and suddenly, brittany was in the grasp of a large bloke, intoxicated and assuming she was somehow affiliated with his enemy.
anger was instantaneous; teeth clenched and jaw tight, christy practically flew forward, half in a panic and half in total rage – which was the very reason he might’ve hurt brittany in the process of pushing between the two and forcing the girl out of the way. but before he apologised, his fists had crumpled the attacker’s shirt and he slammed him into the nearest wall. “swear to fuckin’ god if you touch her one more time,” cj whispered, spitting quite literally as he spoke. “i’ll kill you.”
[ sleepy ] for my muse to slowly fall alseep on your muse .
parked in the back of a large, empty, dark parking lot, christy sat with brittany between his legs, his back against the door. they were locked and the backseats were down for extra room and, yes, stereotypically seen in movies: windows had steamed. but it wasn’t because they’d had sex (surprisingly). instead, cj had had a small breakdown, mostly due to teddy, and the two were now so drained that they hadn’t even wanted to drive home to a bed.
cheek resting against the top of brittany’s head of brunette hair, the boy smiled ever so slightly as he heard her breathing regulate; heavy and steady – asleep, more than likely. lifting his head, he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head, before resting against the window and closing his eyes. his arms were dangled around her shoulders and down the front of her chest, but the grip she once held tight around his fingers was now loose. definitely asleep.