"Choke, tried to wash you down with something strong." Vic said, fingers nimbly picking at invisible strings on his jacket.
"Tried?" a voice, His voice asked, concern laced into his tone.
"The taste of blood remains. And I've noticed something. Cold, empty mattresses and falling stars; God how they start to look the same." Vic said with a small smile, lifting his eyes to meet pools of green.
"So, please, keep in happiness and torture me." he said quietly, and the other man sighed.
"Let's go in style, right?" he asked, an echo of an old laugh twisting his words.
"Darling, it's cold outside." Vic mumbled, his eyes going to the window that exposed the cruel Seattle winds.
"Kells, there's no more eyes to see the sun. I mean what's even the point anymore? Every night, you slide into bed while I get drunk." Vic snarled, and Kellin jumped, his eyes proving Vic with questions he couldn't begin to form words to.
"Vic, slow conversations with a gun mean more than I've ever said to anyone." Mellon breathed out finally, and Vic's lips twisted into a sardonic grin.
"It'll be alright." he said softly, before retreating his face back to the floor.
"But last night, you said you ended up in Palm Springs dancing on tables." Vic said a few days later, tension in the air radiating like a bomb. He couldn't take his eyes away from Kellin's neck. That fucking mark. Not his.
"Almost fought some bitch at the club." Kelvin offered weakly, carding his hair nervously.
"Well, fuck, what am I supposed to be, impressed?" Vic suddenly shouted, throwing his hands into the air.
"Kells, you're really just another set of bones to lay to rest." he said in defeat,
"I guess it's time to say goodnight, I really hope you had a really good time." Kellin said bitterly, gathering his coat.
"I will soon forget the color of your eyes, and you'll forget mine." Vic said quietly, Kellin taking no note to his words as he swept out of the apartment.
But last night
You said you ended up in Palm Springs dancing on tables
