fuckcash:
burning liquid continued sliding down cash’s throat for the entire night – nothing new. sore fists from a fight he won’t remember, a missing shoe from hopping that fence – nothing new. the wild antics that were included in an average night with cash went the through motions easily, but when the night ended, that’s when he noticed something was missing.
he looked around at the others with him as the clock stroke 5am; everyone was heading back home, exhausted – but cash was still looking for the calm after the storm. a blunt, shitty movies, meaningless yet comfortable chatter until sleep fell inevitable. wade was nowhere to be seen - as of yet.
with the bits of alcohol and mixed drugs lingering in his system, cash trudged his way to the familiar home to make amends for that thing that happened between them a few weeks ago that cash has practically suppressed. he wanted to ignore the past; that’s what he usually tried to do to allow things to normalize ( whatever that meant ).
“wade, dude, bro,” he repeated in a voice that didn’t even resemble a whisper, probably waking up the neighborhood at dawn. cash found the nearest item on the ground to really get the other’s attention - a small gardening shovel - and threw it to wade’s window, wincing at the bang of the metal hitting glass. a small, stupid, smile appeared across his face, knowing that had to do the trick to wake his ( once ) friend up.
@wadehq
the night had only offered misfortune, restless sleep shifting from tossing and turning to staring at the stark white ceilings of his room. what felt like countless hours had been spent staring into the oblivion, negative thoughts manifesting themselves into fear, doubt, guilt, and blame - the echos that he’d never be good enough, that he’d never amount to anything plaguing his conscious. it’s only as dawn began to break outside his window that wade realized how little sleep he’d actually gotten, a pitiful groan parting his lips. the thought of a steaming cup of coffee was his sole motivation to stumble out of bed, but before he could make it half way to the door, a sudden crash had him jumping out of his skin. he swallowed, peeking outside of his bedroom door in the hopes that somehow, someway his parents hadn’t heard the unknown object flying THROUGH wade’s window.
upon realizing the coast is clear, he’s fixing the window with a glare - the other’s voice causing fists to clench at his side. “what a fuckin’ idiot.” the shovel sat discarded in the middle of a pile of glass - and though he’d likely have to explain the situation sometime today, he’d really rather not have to think about that now. a hand runs over his face, before he’s retreating downstairs and out the front door. “what the fuck do you think you’re doin?” he kept his voice to a minimum, whisper yelling across the yard with the assumption that he, much like cash, looked like a fucking idiot. “you just fuckin’ broke my window! wasn’t it a red flag when the shovel didn’t fall back down?” he assessed the other, before pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “SHIT .. how fucked up are you, right now?”