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MDNI | #Risqué
Joined November 2021
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Ghoul's head tilted curiously to the side, wondering where this was going, hoping she'd go on- but didn't.
"Ya both played?"
He pulled his knees up to his chest, arms wrapping around them, just watching her. Fuck, she was so damn pretty. Almost couldn't stand it. >
Ghoul didn't sleep much anymore.
He used to. Back in the desert, he could sleep anywhere — the back of the car, a diner booth, sprawled across Poison's lap with the radio still going. Now he got three, maybe four hours a night if he was lucky. Always on his side. >
< There was so much she didn't know. Draag. The chair. Gee, and Frankie, and Frank, and whatever the fuck they were to him now. He had no idea how to start any of it.
𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬. 𝐇𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬.
Ghoul curled them >
< into fists, waited for the worst of the tremor to pass, and let out a slow breath.
"Pois." His voice came out rough. "Y'wanna know 'bout my hands?"
[ @SinfulKilljoy ]
“Ya did?” Ghoul asked, surprised. They didn’t talk about their lives pre-war a lot. Figured it didn’t matter. But he was curious anyway.
He sat down against the wall next to her, watching.
