"Dude, he could've just asked us to have grabbed it yesterday," Poison sighs, eyebrows furrowed as we walk down the market in Zone 5 yet again – I can't help but to roll my eyes, shaking my head to myself.
"You know there aren't always the same products or people from day to day," I mutter, but know full well it's not enough to stop his ego. He's about to complain when I take his hand in mine, smiling. "But at least we have some time for each other, don't you think? No Kobra walking in and complaining about how gross we are," I chuckle at the memory – it's happened at least two or three times.
Poison rolls his eyes, snorting a chuckle. "You're right." He gives my hand a squeeze and looks like he's about to say something, but shakes his head to himself and fishes from his back pocket the paper Jet handed him.
There aren't many things we need to get, mostly for cleanse and food we couldn't find yesterday and we're using the few carbons the four always put away for buying what they mainly need.
We soon arrive at a stand that's got the first items – not many people sell cleanse supplies because not only are they difficult to get but also very few people have access to water. Now that I think about it, the Fabulous Four having water never really got my attention. Maybe because I was in a difficult state when I arrived or because, well, they are the Fabulous Four and of course they're going to have some privileges. But still, how?
"Poison?" I ask, receiving a hum in response while we get the items in a cardboard box. "How do you guys have water?"
"Oh, that." He glances at me, taking his box in arms and waiting for me so we can go back to the car. "It's been a long time, but I remember Ghoul or Kobra found a water pipe then Jet and Ghoul managed to connect it to the diner or something like that, I don't know exactly how it works." He smiles, proudly, but looks at me waiting for my reaction.
"That's both lucky and awesome," I say honestly.
"Yeah, agreed," Poison chuckles.
Half of the shopping list being scratched out, we proceed to grab the food. We walk past the candy stands and I feel a bit nostalgic remembering how Sour and War like candies and would always go crazy over them, but I decide to push the thought aside and continue following Poison, hugging him slightly from behind; it makes the two of us almost fall, chuckling.
"I could swear there were chips here yesterday," he comments as we come to a stop. "I bet Jet just wanted to get rid of us for a day."
I roll my eyes, shaking my head to myself. "Party, stop thinking about it. C'mon, I'll go grab the first three things then you grab the rest, sounds fine? That might make things faster and give us more time for each other."
Even if it's clear Party already made his decision, he pouts lightly, humming. "Okay," he mumbles and carefully rips the paper before handing me part of it. I hum in a feigned stern tone at his manners and press soft kisses from the side of his face to his lips, pleased with how he slowly melts into me.
"Alright," I step away, tucking the paper in my pocket.
"Oh, look at who we have here," a sudden voice says and I am about to continue talking when Poison turns to their direction, eyes widening lightly. Does he know them? My assumptions are proven true when the person steps closer, observing Poison through half lidded eyes and smirking lips, hands tucked in their jacket's pockets. A few patches decorate the thick jeans material, with things like 'Worst Living Industries' and 'he/him'.
Poison's expression falls with a sigh and he shakes his head. "Get lost, okay?"
"Party, c'mon," the guy groans as he steps closer. A bit too close – Poison even makes a motion to step back, but is blocked by the counter of the booth we stand in front of. "What's gotten in you?" He reaches a hand to touch Party's hair, making the red haired flinch, wrinkling his nose as he never lets the guy touch him. "You used to love it when I tugged your hair, didn't you?"
Oh, wow. He and Party... Okay. My stomach churns at the thought and– Why in the fuck am I reacting this way? Something about how the guy talks about Poison just pisses me off. Hell, it's not like Poison is his property or something.
"My Destroya," Poison mutters under his breath and glances my way, swallowing dryly. "If I wanted anything to do with you, I would've gone after you, okay? Now fuck off."
The guy pauses, hand hanging midway in the air... until he's looking from Poison to me with a growing grin on his face, finally chuckling presumptuously. "No, no, no, you don't need to say anything else. Now I get what's going on here. You've found someone else." He presses his lips together, though the humour and entertainment never leave his eyes and something about it all isn't so genuine. "Crash by the Nest when it's over, okay? Same place." Another chuckle escapes his lips as he slowly steps back, winking at Poison on the way.
Disgusting.
An audible breath comes from Party in the moment the guy is far enough and he shakes his head to himself, shuddering lightly. "Okay, love," he almost runs a hand through his hair, but stops midway and lowers the hand again. "We can meet back here, okay? Whoever arrives first waits for the other." It's not even a question or suggestion. His eyes never meet mine.
As much as I try to reply verbally, it feels like something is clenching around the base of my throat, squeezing it tightly. All I can do is to nod before walking away.
Let's go. I need to grab a few crackers, beans and... Holy Witch, maybe I should've known better.
A sudden weight presses down on my shoulder and I glance back to see the same guy from earlier, Party's ex or something. He said he gave up, but this glint continues shining in his eyes, brown irises staring at me intently, scanning each inch like if looking for someone, maybe avaliating me. He never greets me.
"I'm afraid I don't know you and I really have things to do." I almost force a smile, but decide against it, about to walk away when his hand tightens around my shoulder.
"Don't worry, I won't take long," he breathes, almost chuckling, a good mood soon replaced by an evident bitterness. "I know what kind of person you are and you're obviously in love with that stupid red head, but I'd like you to know he's only good with his ass in the air. But you're not dumb, are you? You know the reputation he has. It's only a matter of time before he's changing you for someone better. Take this as a friendly reminder, okay?" And his tone is light again, like he was just letting me know about something trivial like having let my wallet fall or whatever. "See you around!"
Shit. Even breathing becomes hard, suddenly; my lungs refuse more than shallow breaths and protest with a sharp pain whenever I try to breathe in any deeper. That's not all, unfortunately and I wish I knew what I am feeling, but it feels like something is crawling under my skin, buzzing in the back of my mind, telling me to do something. Do what?
Before I can see it, I have not only all the food I need but also hair dye, some items similar to what I had before everything went to shit and – thank Destroya – a couple packets of cigarettes.
The ride back is silent and, to be honest, there's nothing to be said.
.
"I like the new style," Ghoul says, standing in the doorway to the convenience store area. He smiles and makes his way over, taking a seat beside me, hopping on top of the counter, too, with a bit of struggle.
I hum softly – the smoke slips past my lips, dispersing in the air in a matter of seconds. I like Ghoul. He reminds me of my friends. "Thank you," I mutter, pulling him for a brief side hug.
In all honesty, this style, these looks make me feel much more comfortable, makes me feel myself. Is it risky? Maybe, but I'm far from giving a fuck and I've been just standing around for too long. I really needed a change; the dyed part of my hair was already faded whereas the roots had grown out through the time it was neglected. Plus, I missed all my accessories and clothes, my own style of clothes, clothes my size. What I miss the most is probably my gang jacket... Nah, of course it's my friends.
Ghoul observes me quietly, gaze boring into the side of my face. What's gotten into him? Is he observing my new looks or doing that again? Even being as distracted as he is, he's impressively good at reading people.
"Stop, stop looking, I get it I'm handsome," I say half heartedly as I put my cig out against the counter, my free hand covering Ghoul's eyes. He probably knows I'm at least feeling bad, but never says anything; he only giggles at my actions, quickly uncovering his eyes, though he continues holding onto my hand and wrist, looking at me with a smile. It takes me a moment to notice his waiting manner. "Let go!" I glare at him, never making any real effort to pull away – he laughs more, hugging my arm to his chest, almost falling back with laughter after I dramatically gasp.
We're eventually just sitting there, looking into the distance, observing the desert through the stained windows of the convenience store's front. He continues hugging my arm, attention averting to my unfinished tattoos at some point.
"(K/n), can I... ask you something?" Ghoul asks quietly, voice small and hesitant.
"Yeah," I mutter, sounding more like questioning.
Nothing comes from Ghoul at first. He lets go of my arm, every remaining piece of the humor we held earlier is gone with a heavy sigh, and adjusts his position so he can face me easier. "Y'know, I don't want to pressure you or anything, but... I used to be around Doctor D's place a lot and, um, he once told me about this gang, Candy Crush, y'know? And recently I remembered about it after seeing a few wanted posters..." he breathes carefully, eyes dropping to the ground for a brief moment in which he runs his tongue between his dry lips. "And, y'know, the story– your story... it kinda matches. I remembered you, now that you've gotten that, um, change."
Unexpected, for sure, but not as much as it was when it happened with Jet. I can't run away from my life forever, in consolation.
"No one else knows, I swear," he adds quickly and I can't help but to chuckle.
"Don't worry, that's fine," I sigh, running a hand through my hair. "This would eventually happen. Already happened. Jet already knew," I say in response to his questioning gaze. "The posters are all around, also. I decided to keep my identity a secret only for security. Not only my own, but yours too, not to mention running away from all of that was too easy."
"Too easy?" He blinks, tilting his head.
"Uh, yeah." I pause, rethinking my words. "It was a harsh event, Ghoul. I almost had a heart attack when I saw the van outside the station. War and Sour had insisted, fucking insisted that I should go with them, to a point they almost carried me out of the building, but I didn't want to stop working on that stupid radio. That 'Crow saying my name... Hell, I still hear it freshly in my mind now and then. I felt almost suffocated when trying to run away. I almost didn't make it."
The way they chased me. I was in such a panic. I don't even know how I managed to get away from all these shots without being injured – I only did it in a moment of stupidness.
"And later on you guys found me," I continue, shifting lightly in my place. "Not gonna lie, I didn't give you my name at first because I didn't really trust you guys, so I just blurted out (k/n). Now, even thinking about what used to be my name..." All I can do is to let out an uncomfortable, displeased, somewhat frustrated sound to express the feeling.
Cool. Ghoul will now pity me or something, maybe be too cool for that because Ghoul may be a sweetheart, but he's still part of the Fabulous Four.
"I'm so sorry!" Ghoul sounds as if he was the one hurt and wraps his arms around me, pulling me for a hug.
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