CRAVESFREEDOM.
she’s struck by a feeling that something’s different about her friend, something off ; a dark aura’s settled about her ( not that she believes in that hippie shit. ) but isn’t that what happens to everyone fending for themselves in a DIRTY, messed up world? no one escapes without looking like the weight of the universe itself has crushed their soul. she’s worried there’s more to the story than a bad life wearing at her, but she doesn’t say anything about it, not now. she busies her mind with bullet’s words ; she was WORRIED about her, something that brought a warmth to her core, ❛ i was basically in lockdown — they took my phone away, had me doing some homeschool shit. ❜ she drags her teeth over her chapped bottom lip, thinking, before a decisive smile makes its way on her face, ❛ i think i’ll always pick breakfast. ❜ she spins on her heel, heading off in the direction that would lead to the nearest greasy diner, ❛ bullet, i want to pay. ❜ she isn’t looking at her, eyes on the ground watching herself walk. how many times has bullet had her back when she had nothing? ( whether it was a place to stay, food, money ) — she OWED her.
too much has happened. there’s been so much blood and so much pain, so much she hasn’t spoken about of her own volition, let alone acknowledged with anything other than a swell of anger. grateful that octavia isn’t the prying type, although part of her longs to unload. ( it’s okay to be not okay, fifteen and grieving over too many things all at once. it’s okay to be upset and want to confide in someone who might understand instead of forcing yourself open to someone who does nothing but psychoanalyse your every word. ) a scoff parts her lips, cracked and raw from the chill and split at the corner, where she took a hit two days ago. ❛ fuck ‘em. you gotta keep a low profile for a li’l while, man. you know they’ll be huntin’ your ass down like a freakin’ dog. i’ll find you a place t’ squat if you need one. ❜ she remembers being on the run. her first year on the streets was hell. ❛ guess i should’a known that. yo, c’mon, i mean it. you ain’t gonna have that scratch forever. don’t blow it on some damn eggs ‘n bacon, you feel me ? ❜ she falls into step, a small quirk at the edges of her mouth. money isn’t as much of an issue for bullet as it is for others, but she’s always hesitant to divulge that, and cautious with who she tells. ❛ so, who were the punk - asses that got stuck wit’cho crazy ass ? bible thumpers ? ❜