WHEN I FIRST SAW YOU / private

[dannychan]

mickey didn't even glance at him. he didn't want to see what he had done, how he had hurt that one person that seemed to actually love it. he twirled his sharpie between his fingers before starting to continue his little drawing session. "i'm sitting, what the fucks it look like?" he responded bitterly, adding little dots along some of the lines and just staring at them for a moment. "drawing on my arms.. anywhere with free space.."

[peridot.]

Noticing that the other wouldn't look up at him, his frown deepened, and a huff left him. He took a few steps forward so that he was right in front of the other, glaring down at him and saying quietly, "You know there's such a thing as fucking paper, right?" He then reached down for the other's chin, hissing softly, "If you're gonna act like a creepy stalker, at least look at me."

[dannychan]

"you realising i'm broke as shit, right?" retorted mickey, swatting his hand away. "better stop touching me before i bite you're fucking hand off." he growled, glaring down at the mostly empty heart on his wrist before turning it down in an attempt to keep ian from seeing it. he didn't want to admit that the other was write, because he didn't want to face the facts of who he was.

[peridot.]

He pulled his hand back and glared down at the other, crossing his arms and hissing softly, "Why the hell are you here, Mickey? Can't you go draw on yourself somewhere else?"

[dannychan]

he frowned. "no." he stated simply, and stood up. "but i'll go if you really want me gone. just say the word." he snapped, putting the cap on his sharpie. "but i think i already know the answer." he muttered and put a hand over the heart on his wrist, starting to walk off. he should have just going to the building. why did he have to go to the school? it was a dumb mistake anyways.

[peridot.]

He sighed and watched the other go, and he even opened his mouth to say something, before closing it as previous events came rushing back to him, along with an ache through all of his injuries. He let out a soft shaking breath and covered his mouth as he turned to stalk back towards the other side of the bleachers. He wasn't gonna fucking cry over that asshole again, especially not here.

[dannychan]

mickey would stop at the cross walk and close his eyes for a moment before rushing off to the building.

/skip?? i have a a mean thing cx

[peridot.]

/mm I suppose pls don't be too mean

[dannychan]

/please don't read unless you are either me or peri. this is a private thread, and there will be triggers throughout for many things.

mikhail "mickey" milkovich could almost always be in that ruined building on the southernmost part of the south side. whether he was drinking, smoking, doing drugs, screwing some random hooker from the corner, shooting bottles- anything you could think of, really, anything that seemed 'manly', as people called it, he could be found doing said activity in that building.. but not today. no, ian had rotc training and he couldn't stop thinking about the red haired male.

he knew he didn't go to school anymore, so he just sat under the bleachers running a sharpie fluidly along any exposed skin he could draw on until they formed intricate patterns that he couldn't possibly recreate. maybe he could have his brother go over it with the real ink, make it really permanent.

when he heard the whistle blow, he looked up to see the group headed to bleachers. ian still had the bruises and cuts from when when he beat him down. ian had been saying shit like "what, does it make you feel like a man? have a *** beat down?" and then those words that seemed to just echo for hours on end.

you love me. you're gay. just admit it for once.

yeah, he was. he really was, and it horrified him, because his dad pistol whipped him when he found him and ian having sex, had beaten them both down, and then practically forced mickey to have his way with some downtown whore- now she was pregnant and he was marrying her. he leaned on the pillar that held up the bleachers, and then looked to his wrist at the pattern he had drawn. he hadn't even realised it, really.

an I, somehow turned into an heart.

/ [member=503]peril.[/member]

[peridot.]

Ian wasn't really in a good mood. He hurt, he was tired, and he honestly still just felt kind of raw and injured from the inside out. Still, he was trying his best to focus on training and everything like that. When he heard the whistle signalling it was time for a break, a sigh of relief left him, and he made his way slowly over to the bleachers, freezing when he saw the flash of a person in his view. He tensed a little bit and glanced around before slipping underneath the bleachers, a frown coming to his face when he saw Mickey. He hissed softly, his face still a bit flushed from physical activity, "What the fuck are you doing here?"