𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐒𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐬 | 𝙷.𝚂.

fifty four - the ninth line

I love how the chapter with the most comments is the first one with even a hint of spice lmfao

Anyways, make sure you've read 52&53

-ky

________________________

It was now Saturday, and the days were flying by much too quickly for Nine's taste.

When he woke up, he'd already decided that he was going to spend the entire day at home, not doing shit due to the fact that he felt like he hadn't had enough time to himself to prepare for the ball on Tuesday.

If Blue wanted to train, they would do it after the meeting tomorrow to discuss the plans.

And then they could again on Monday. Maybe even Tuesday morning.

But today was not the day.

Nine laid in bed, petting the cat beside him before rolling a joint— something he hadn't done in a while.

He felt stressed, and he couldn't quite describe why. Stressed to the point that not even his cigarettes were helping, already halfway through the pack he bought with Blue on Thursday.

So, he was going to smoke this weed, get super high, and then probably stare at the ceiling for hours.

Or, god forbid he's fucked up enough to pull out the camera and start taking stupid pictures of Jagger like he did the last time he'd done this.

Even worse, he'll go knock on Blue's door just to have someone to talk to in order to busy his mind.

He shuttered at the thought.

It was already four in the afternoon, most of the day passed of Nine sticking true to his plan.

He'd only come out once earlier to grab a bottle of water, not eating at all today. Which, he'd definitely regret when this blunt hit him, dragging out the annoying munchies he always got off of it.

Nine's tongue darted from between his lips as he licked the brown paper of his wrap, his ring-clad fingers carefully holding it as he moistened the edges.

Then, he fluffed and straightened the sides with the ground weed sitting in between, his hands finding his steel tray and using it as leverage as he began to roll the paper over the drug.

Several months ago he went on a six day streak of being high from smoking too much marijuana. He had a hit that he needed to complete, and his mind was moving too slowly for him to successfully get the guy that day.

Damian was pissed. And frankly, so was Nine.

So, he denied any offerings for quite some time, telling everyone in The Nine to keep it away from him.

The Devil's lettuce.

But the time had come once again where he'd been too stressed to properly function, so he would smoke this blunt and let his suffocating thoughts escape his mind for a while.

Just for today.

And then tomorrow, he'd be back on his game.

Once the damp paper had been successfully sealed to the dry side with the substance contained beneath, Nine picked up his lighter and lit the end, immediately pulling it to his mouth.