𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐒𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐬 | 𝙷.𝚂.

sixty two - the camera ordeal

wore my doc martens today trying to break them in and got the notorious heel blisters :) live, love, laugh life. 

fml, pls correct any typos you see 

-ky

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Nine got to Kite's later Thursday night, at around eight p.m.

Upon entering and seeing Zayn sitting and smoking with Blue on the couch, he instantly rolled his eyes and drug his feet over towards the redhead's fridge, hoping that there was something he could eat.

"Where've you been?" Zayn asked, smoke from a blunt simmering into the room.

At his return, he saw Blue put it out and smush it into an ashtray, destroying the little bit of the product left over.

Nine shrugged, standing with his arm slung over the refrigerator door, impatiently scanning the products inside.

Milk. Eggs. Cheese. An entire head of broccoli. Some weird Tupperware container filled with something that was most definitely molding by now.

There was not shit.

"Out," he answered.

He was hungry, and he desperately wanted to dig into some disgusting food and then go the fuck to bed.

He'd been out all day, investigating the lead of the group that Berkshire revealed and talked to them about. Unfortunately, he didn't get very far into it until he hit a standstill that ultimately led him back to Brady Bird's death.

The man he killed.

The brother of the girl that he was thinking about so viciously that he could rip her head off while he fucked her. Literally.

It was a massive pain.

And his day was unsuccessful, filled with no real information and leading him to be tired and frustrated.

On top of that, he'd received the photo Zayn sent him of the card Cecelia Berkshire gave them during the ball. 

Which only meant that there was more possible information, and they needed to be there.

He didn't want to think about any of that right now; his stomach was growling and biting at him.

Nine turned towards the pair then, his cold eyes flickering back and forth before settling on the raven-haired girl staring back at him with a slight twitch of her brow.

"I'm going out," he said, knowing that he'd have to go search for food before he ended up consuming himself.

Or worse, Blue instead.

Her nose scrunched up, "Out? You just got back?"

Nine nodded, "There's no food here."

Zayn pushed his hands on his knees then, forcing himself to stand up and venture towards the door a bit.

"I'm knackered. Weed makes me sleepy," he looked at Blue. "I should be going."

Nine didn't miss the way she frowned, looking back and forth at both of them.

But she smiled softly at Zayn, "Sure, okay. See you tomorrow maybe?"

"Yea," he agreed. "As I promised."

Nine watched their entire encounter with an odd feeling in his chest, his brows furrowing intently before Zayn sent him a look, and then walked out of the door.