love it if we made it *:･ﾟ✧ (p)

[scully.]

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[i]the war has been incited

max hugs the blankets to her chest, taking in some deep breaths as orion checks his phone. a few moments later, orion extends his arm towards her and max rests her head on his shoulder, his arm under her neck and a leg sprawled over him. she’s gotten familiar with his tattoos, not discovering as many new ones than she used to, but she still enjoys tracing over them, her fingers gently dancing over his skin. she has felt them before, the scars, but never brought it up before, tonight feels different.
[b]”what’re the scars from?” she asks softly, breaking the sweet, comfortable silence between them; she doesn’t like silence anyway.
the two’s relationship is always strange; anyone would tell you that, but they can’t get enough of one another. they argue, a lot, over dumb shit, but they always ended up in bed together at the end of the night. maxwell’s not sure if orion was seeing other people or not, but she isn’t exactly in a position to be upset over it; they both always made it clear, they are not together. they both have their demons and, at least max, can’t imagine being in a relationship then. also, why complicate it? max is acting photographer for his band and orion was the face of an up-and-coming band, it’s almost a business relationship.
but, again, maxwell has been feeling a lot of things recently, confusing things, and they seemed to be in a pretty good patch, so maybe things are changing; that’s why she felt like she could ask now. also, she’s planning on being at his place all night. she’d told canary that she’d be out all night and nary was planning on going to a party, if max is remembering right. this being considered, whatever the story is of the scars covered by tattoos, they can actually talk. no one knew they were there, no one is expecting them, there was no time crunch, and maybe, just maybe, this would change something and they could actually, finally, figure out exactly what they were and where they’re going.

[i]there'll be a riot

signature messy hair, a somewhat ratty denim jacket, black jeans, cigarette behind his ear. lip waits by the door of the party, only really focused on the door as people tried speaking to him. he was dismissive with all conversation, he’s waiting for someone specific, canary eastwood. she’s the only reason he’s really here in all honesty and his uninterest in others is blatant.
the babyfaced, precious girl had thrown lip for a loop. he caught her after she tripped and he thought she looked so, so out of place. doe eyed, she followed him around and he tried to ditch her, afraid of ruining the innocence she radiated, but, they waged an agreement. and thank god lip agreed, because now she is the only girl he can and wants to thank about.
lip smiles and nods at whatever the girl in front of him said, then places a hand lightly on her shoulder, “excuse me,” he says as he moves past her and goes out the door. he lets out a sigh and shakes his head, retrieving the cigarette from behind his ear and bumming a lighter off someone who already had one out. saying his thank you, he goes off a bit by himself, glancing up and down the sidewalk to look for the girl.
spotting her wavey hair, lip grins some, taking a drag of the cigarette and turning away from the direction she’s coming from; he still has a cool card to keep. when nary finally walks in front of him, lip nods in her direction, blowing a puff of smoke in her direction.
[b]”hey, you made it,” lip greets, ”you look so cool,” he comments, poking fun at her since she had stared up at him, wided-eyes and said he looked cool. he takes another puff of the cigarette before letting it drop to the ground and stepping on it to put it out, glancing back up at her with a soft smile.