i'm not your friend. i don't give a shit about you. you're just a nobody, nothing, punk-ass kid.
ind. bullet of amc's the killing.
private as hell. low activity.

envisas    *  tyrell.

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          tyrell heaves out a sigh and steps around her, inside, making a beeline for the coffee machine. irritably, he stabs at some buttons, leans against the counter while he’s waiting for it to heat up.   i’m elliot’s boyfriend. i’m assuming he didn’t tell you about me.

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he didn’t.     she doesn’t even  try  to be conscientious about the look she’s serving him.    skepticism with a dash of good old fashioned,  childish  contempt.     “     didn’t come up.    probably ‘cause you’re a real fuckin’ prick.     ”