𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙍𝙀 𝙄𝙎 only one thing that could be possibly worse than kfc running out of chicken for trinity hawkes. and that's getting trapped in new york with her mortal enemy, jschlatt.
and that's just about to happen.
"𝙄'𝘿 𝙍𝘼𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙍 𝙆𝙄𝘾𝙆 𝙄...
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𝘾𝘼𝙎𝙋𝘼𝙍 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁𝙐𝘾𝙆𝙄𝙉' 𝙂𝙃𝙊𝙎𝙏
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"Make yourself at home."
Ted pushed open his front door, and ushered Trinity inside. The inside was different from the last time she saw it. Cleaner. Brighter. Better.
"You know you're thinking out loud." Ted chuckled and hung up her coat on a hook by the door. "I'm flattered, though. You sounded like you were in an advert for some crappy cleaning product or something."
Trinity giggled and all the worries that involved staying with Connor seemed to fade away. She couldn't of been happier to escape his hellhole of a house.
"Ello, broad."
Trinity instantly froze up on the spot. She shivered and shook, and her shoulders locked into place. Schlatt.
He stood there for a few seconds, arms crossed across his chest, leaning against the door frame, grinning in either delight or satisfaction. She could tell that he was smiling to tease her, and it only pissed her off her further.
"You look like the physical embodiment of that one emoji that's a rock with a face right now." He shrugged and walked away into Ted's kitchen, sneakily flipping Trinity off in the mirror.
It wasn't until he was out of earshot (or so she thought) that she finally found that she could, in fact, speak. Her rigid limbs loosened up and it appeared that her legs were fully working again.
"Fuck you, Jonathan." In return, she flipped him off (not so sneakily, though), rolled her eyes and turned back to Ted, who was trying to suppress a smile. "Stop smiling."
"I'm not." He held his hands up defensively and doubled back on his feet towards the basement stairs. "Come on, your room's down here."
