thiefofwords
jae falls asleep on the chair in the corner of the room, a raven print blanket thrown over zir.
Siobhan groaned, running a hand through her hair. Grabbing the bucket from under the sink, she shoved it under the leak. Damn the weather, and damn the landlord, the bloody bastard.
Ian fiddled with the hoop earrings, sliding them into the holes in his ears and letting them hang. Taking a kohl pencil, he outlined his eyes, winking at his reflection as he finished. Seamus sat on the armchair behind the older man, struggling to tie his own bow tie as Ian finished with his make up.
He's never been a runaway, not properly, anyway. No, in his mind, he's always been running to something. To be a runaway, you have to be running from something, right? No, the escape was just a side effect of running for home.