𝐣𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐝.
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eyes lift from where they’d been trained on her hands. biting into her bottom lip in hopes it’d stop her from being a fucking crybaby over nothing. “it’s okay—— i shouldn’t pry.. it’s my fault.”

there’s that tone again, it made her shrink further backwards. frown doubling down on her lips. “i didn’t mean—— i just…” trailing off almost pathetically.

lips pulled down into a frown at his tone—— again she recoiled a bit backwards from it. now toying with the strings of her own apron absentmindedly. “i just know rita.. i’ve shown up late plenty and she hasn’t.. been that pissed at me.”


“that can’t be the only reason..” she murmured with a frown. a hesitant step more towards him before she thought better of herself and stopped moving.

she didn’t push the subject—— smart enough to know when to and not to say something. “why’s she pissed?”

⠀ her hand remains outstretched, waiting for the beer to be passed. ⠀

“mack, get the fuck up.” another kick to the couch before he heaved a tired sigh. hand reaching out to yank the pillow from under his friends head.

“right…” soft sigh, eyes flickering down to his still bleeding hand and back up again. fingers fidgeting with the pockets of her apron anxiously. “do you need to go to the hospital? that looks rough.”

pretty sure he got drunk and let himself in.. a foot is kicked out to wake him up. “yo, up.”

you don’t have to be so… mean, i was just checking on you.









