[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; line-height: 150%; color: #494949; font-family: karla; font-size: 8pt; letter-spacing: 0.2px; word-spacing: 1px; margin-top: 10px;"] rory likes freddie. he is the type of person rory would like to imagine himself to be: defiant , confident. beyond that, rory admits that he doesn't know plenty about him. maybe that he's a flirt? which is something rory is not. rory has never been much of a romantic person, never has been a sexual person. he could be a virgin forever, and he'd less than likely be bothered. he didn't understand the hype, but hey, to each their own. freddie was cool, nonetheless. a slightly less pain in the ass than any of the others here. some too kind, some too strict. a middle-ground.
you can't handle your alcohol , freddie says , smiling. rory smiles back , pushing himself pathetically from the ground . he thinks his intent is to get up , but he still ends up on the floor. only this time , he's sitting , back pressed against the cabinets. they're nice and cool to his feverish body , warmed up from the alcoholic intake. he doesn't think he's ever been this hot since being here. "nice observation , asshole." and then rory bursts into a fitful of laughter. he isn't sure what's funny , but whatever it is , he laughs nonetheless. he quiets just as freddie asked that fretful question; the why.
he asked at a good time, the time where rory just might as well poor his guts out to a stranger. "because i'm depressed. I was born and then i was depressed because life sucks. I'm an orphan, my mom died, my dad was an asshole. because he was, I am, so I kicked damien's ass and everything sucks." there he was , complaining about how life sucked as if it was the only explanation he could offer . he sounded like a child , but maybe because deep down he was. a child depraved of his childhood too early, and it still deep down ate him up inside. he cackled , patting the dog cautiously , as if oakley — out of anyone — would bite.
what a nice conversation they were having until the Boss showed up , all authoritative and dick-ish. didn't he have children to attend to ? a pack to lead ? he'd caused rory enough damage by his existence. get up. the words were simple , but he hated them. he fucking hated him. rory glanced up to him , glared. he wanted to make sure edmund knew exactly how he felt about him. of course , his emotions were only full-force under the influence. he didn't take his hand. instead , he stumbled up with the support of any inanimate object he could hold onto. "suppose I should be heading to bed, yeah?" bringing two fingers to his head, he salutes freddie, then losing his index finger, flicks off eddie with the ghost a sardonic grin before parting ( rather stumbling ) off to his room. he knew that oakley would eventually follow suit.
you can't handle your alcohol , freddie says , smiling. rory smiles back , pushing himself pathetically from the ground . he thinks his intent is to get up , but he still ends up on the floor. only this time , he's sitting , back pressed against the cabinets. they're nice and cool to his feverish body , warmed up from the alcoholic intake. he doesn't think he's ever been this hot since being here. "nice observation , asshole." and then rory bursts into a fitful of laughter. he isn't sure what's funny , but whatever it is , he laughs nonetheless. he quiets just as freddie asked that fretful question; the why.
he asked at a good time, the time where rory just might as well poor his guts out to a stranger. "because i'm depressed. I was born and then i was depressed because life sucks. I'm an orphan, my mom died, my dad was an asshole. because he was, I am, so I kicked damien's ass and everything sucks." there he was , complaining about how life sucked as if it was the only explanation he could offer . he sounded like a child , but maybe because deep down he was. a child depraved of his childhood too early, and it still deep down ate him up inside. he cackled , patting the dog cautiously , as if oakley — out of anyone — would bite.
what a nice conversation they were having until the Boss showed up , all authoritative and dick-ish. didn't he have children to attend to ? a pack to lead ? he'd caused rory enough damage by his existence. get up. the words were simple , but he hated them. he fucking hated him. rory glanced up to him , glared. he wanted to make sure edmund knew exactly how he felt about him. of course , his emotions were only full-force under the influence. he didn't take his hand. instead , he stumbled up with the support of any inanimate object he could hold onto. "suppose I should be heading to bed, yeah?" bringing two fingers to his head, he salutes freddie, then losing his index finger, flicks off eddie with the ghost a sardonic grin before parting ( rather stumbling ) off to his room. he knew that oakley would eventually follow suit.