//Rafe Cameron\\
"You don't make deals with the devil, not unless you want to dance with him and maybe I did"
Lily Grant has spent her whole life slumming it with the pogues, being that she is one.
They're her day ones, her best friends. Life coul...
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"To what do I owe the pleasure?" John B's smile spreads playfully across his lips as he tugs the screen door open with a metallic clank. The flimsy old thing hanging onto the hinges by a thread. It matches ours minus the holes.
"Thought I'd swing by on a break from my busy schedule" I tell him, a smirk tugging at my cheeks. We both know that's a joke.. I don't have s busy schedule nor do I have a schedule at all. My life.. well my life recently has consisted of bad sleep, headaches, Rafe, screaming burning urges to hurt myself, Rafe, the nagging need for toxic substances that numb my brain, irritability beyond belief, slumping around, fucking Rafe and so on.. Well damn, I am busy aren't I?
I move past him and he let's the screen door click shut behind us. His brown hair lying in messy waves. Turning golden at the tips from being bleached by the sun. Dressed in shorts and plain blue tee that pops against his tanned skin.
I stand awkwardly in the entrance of his house.. despite the familiarity of my surroundings and the lackadaisical atmosphere he puts off.. I feel oddly out of place. Not just with him but with all of them. After finding out that they'd been on this treasure hunt without me, I feel separated from them and in a way I am. I'm out of the loop, missing out on information that they're all cued in on.
"You look tense" He tells me as I ring my fingers together and try to push the tension from my shoulders, shrugging them instead. "Can we talk?" I ask though it's a question that's automatically answered at all times. If there's one thing I know about John B.. it's yes, yes we can talk about anything at anytime. He'll listen, not just with his ears but with every thing he has and he'll genuinely care and try to fix it and if he can't he'll give you his truest and honest advice to help you along.
"Of course" He smiles warmly at me, reading my nervous body langurs with a small furrow of his brows before he swings an arm around my shoulders and guides me into the living room.
I plop down on the couch, the worn fabric beginning to thin and tear at the corners of the cushions. Ours would look the same if my mother hadn't watched us like a hawk with it. No food or drinks, no standing or jumping. It's an old cheap three person couch that probably costs two hundred dollars brand new, if that. But like all things we own, we make do and appreciate that we have it at all.
"Did you commit murder? I'll help you hide the body" He jokes, loosening my mood as my smile melts away some of the tension.
Taking a seat across from me before relaxing into his seat. "I'll have to take you up on that later" I tell him, meeting his hazel gaze as he cocks a brow acquainted with his smirk. "Someone in mind?" "A few" Quite a few. I could make a list.
