Mafia
(noun)
- An organized international body of criminals, which are involved in gambling, loan sharking, drug-trafficking, prostitution, and fraud, well known for having a complex and ruthless behavioral code.
"Ashton didn't know that he had capt...
Love getting hate in YouTube comments for a comment (which I posted two years ago) which was an inside joke. Mate, just go fuck yourself because I already know I'm a suicidal freak. If they really had taken time to comment that, coulda at least taken time to read why I posted that.
I made that comment when I had friends, who were honestly not good people. They were homophobic, made rude comments, and belittled people over things that were uncontrollable. Then they began hating on me for my writing, my weight, hair color, personality. I began self harming cause of them. They found out about that and hated on me more.
Long story short, don't call someone a 'bad person' Becuase they made a smart ass comment. Don't call them a suicidal freak that nobody likes, because honestly it hurts. It hurts hearing people voice what you already think of yourself.
Anyways, sorry for my rambling; you didn't come here for that, you came for Cashton. I'm just so fucking done with life right now.
Lex
-•-
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
-•-
"Ah, fuck. My head," Calum muttered, sitting up from the couch. I looked up and saw the man had woken up, so I quickly went to his side.
"Any pain?" I ask, kneeling beside him. The man shook his head, rubbing his face with a large hand.
"Fuck me, Angel. What happened?"
"You came back around ten in the morning, collapsed from blood loss. I stitched you up, so be careful with your arm, sir." I tell him, grabbing the pill bottle, getting out two more pain meds. "Take this. For your head."
Calum looked at the pills, grabbed them then swallowed them dry, again.
"Right, I need to clean your bandages real quick. Do you need anything?" I asked, taking out the medical kit.
"Call Mike for me, Angel." I nod, grabbing Calum's phone that he pulled from his pocket and held out to me. I opened it, finding Michael's contact and calling the number. The phone rang, and I handed it back to Calum so he could speak.
I carefully took off the bandage around the stitches, frowning at the dried blood. Taking a cotton ball dipped in medical alcohol, I cleaned off the blood carefully. Once clean, I replaced the old bandage with a new one.
"What do you mean they can't find him?" Calum said loudly, and I began to pay attention to what he was saying. "Haven't they tracked the bastard?" Calum's jaw was clenched, eyebrows furrowing together.
There was a long pause.
"Well, tell Gus that he better find Hartford. That man owes us three hundred thousand in coke, Mike. Stupid backwater dealers, can't even pay for the product." The man grumbled, rolling his eyes. He kept making large hand motions as he talked, swinging his wounded are around too much for my liking.
"Sir, please stop moving your arm." I said quietly, fearful of the stitches opening back up. Calum looked down at me with a tight smile. "I'm sorry, Angel."
"Mike, I got to go. What? No, no it's fine. Angel is just fixing up a few gashes, nothing to worry about." I frown, looking at Calum as he spoke to Michael.
"Sir, you could've bleed out from that cut. It was deep." Calum looked at me. "Mike, I got to go. Yeah, Tuesday. See you."
"Angel, you don't have to worry about me." Calum smiled, patting the spot next to him on the couch. I hesitantly sat beside him, twiddling my thumbs.
"But I do, Sir. I was so nervous and scared when you collapsed. Whoever hurt you hit a bad spot. Just an inch to the left and they would've hit an artery, Sir." I explained, keeping my focus on my hands as I talked. Calum sighed, using his good arm to hook a finger under my chin, making me look at him.
"Angel, you don't have to worry about me. I'll be okay. For now, worry about your brother."
