lets play a game called “character deaths i will never ever in my lifetime get over”
Matty looked up at the mannequin and then back to Ronan with confusion. Half of the time, Matty had no idea what hae said when he used terms like puckering and ruching and all that other fashion mumbo jumbo but he pretended like he did. Matty was sure the last thing Ronan wanted was to answer stupid questions while he was concentrating. “I thought it looked good.” he said quizzically looking over at Ronan. As he tore the fabric off the mannequin, he could tell the older boy was getting frustrated and those were the times he came in and tried to distract him. “How about we go get some food, get hydrated. I don’t think you’ve moved from that chair in over three hours.” Matty said standing up and pulling at the bottom of his shirt to flatten it down before he grabbed Ronan’s hand and pulled him towards the door, even though he didn’t get out of his rolling chair. Normally Matty did a pretty good job at distracting him but other times it was hard. The boy put so much pressure on himself and it made Matty worry. “It’s also…” Matty trailed off before he looked at his watch “half past three in the morning. Sleep is kinda a thing you need too. You know, those human body necessities you always seem to forget about?” he glared at the shorter boy playfully. “Come onnnn.” he pouted. “Let’s go do something fun!” he urged Ronan, trying to pull him out of his chair.
Turning away from the mannequin and back to the table beside it, swiveling the chair under him so he was now faced away from Matty. Rolling his eyes, Ronan let out a silent exasperated sigh. It looked like shit, couldn’t he see that? he thought to himself as he began stuffing scraps of fabric into a shopping bag, trying his best not to get too worked up. It just seemed like he couldn’t get anything right today. Designing was supposed to quiet everything else and remind him that when he failed at everything else this— this he was good at. This room was supposed to be his sanctuary, but right now it was just proving that even the things he thought he was getting right were all wrong.
When Matty grabbed his hand, it took everything in Ronan not to pull away and make some biting remark about how “he didn’t get it, it wasn’t right.” It wasn’t right. It was all wrong. Everything felt all wrong. This was the one bit of order and exactness that he had in his life and not even Matty understood it. But then again, Matty didn’t understand it because Ronan never explained it. So instead of snapping and pushing until the boy beside him was out the door while the young designer locked himself away until dawn to try and find some piece of mind with his garments, Ronan swiveled around in his chair to face the boy, his face virtually expressionless, but his hand giving Matty’s a small squeeze in return.
It was only after a few seconds of this did his words register. Cracking a small smile, Ronan glanced up at the boy trying to urge him out of his seat. “Something fuuuun?”, he asked, his tone mimicking Matty’s. “Weren’t you the one who just said it’s 3 am? You’re contradicting there, Mr. Avery.” While if Ronan had it his way, he’d stay in the studio for days straight, just to keep his mind right, he had to remind himself that what he considered enjoyable, his curly haired companion might not. Matty was all the things Ronan wasn’t, never was, and never would be and that’s what made him so great. He was the warm to Ronan’s cold, and the light to his dark, and maybe that’s what made his company so nice; because when Matty was around he didn’t need any studio lights, he could run the whole operation just off of the vibrancy of Matty’s presence. And maybe that’s what got him to actually agree.
"Alright Captain Fun. Let’s go on an adventure," he said with a grin.
it is three am for shauna but IF SHE DOESN’T reply to my mattan i’ll pEE
Alexei shrugged and laughed his soft, throaty laugh. “You didn’t think I’d let it go without getting my moneys worth?” he asked in response and sighed, smiling at the woman. “At least show a little excitement, dear,” he drawled. “I risked life and limb obtaining that for you. My friend said you were worth it,” he explained with a chuckle, shoving his hands in his pocket and now counting the notes with his fingers. “It appears you are,” he concluded, satisfied with the amount he had recieved.
"Oh, you poor baby," she quipped, making a pouty face at the boy in front of her. If there was anything she hated more than last months Vogue sitting on her coffee table, it was snarky drug dealers. As he mentioned her being of reliable business, Fallon couldn’t help but bring a hand up to examine her nails, clearly soaking in the positive feedback. "Of course I am. It’s people like me who keep people like you in business," the girl replied, flicking a thumb across the other fingers before looking back up at the partially shadowed man in front of her.
"So, are you quite finished or am I going to have to offer half of this bag to you so I can successfully send you on your way?"
"Ten dollars short," were the sole words to escape Alexei’s mouth as the money was slipped in his pocket. Without counting, without even looking at the wad handed to him, he knew it was short. He peered at the female now holding the goods. "How do you plan on paying off the rest?" he asked calmly, curiously; this was a conversation after all. He was civilised. Hit men weren’t his style, that was for sure.
Raising an eyebrow, she stepped back. Reaching into her top and pulling out the extra ten she had brought with her, Fallon pursed her lips trying to gauge the situation. The guy hadn’t even counted the money, so how could he possibly know she was short. He was just giving her shit at this point and the brunette couldn’t be assed with it. “With this,” she said flatly, her expression still stone cold as she stuck the money into the same pocket as the rest of it. She definitely had enough money to blow, and surely enough to keep her out of… alternative routes as far as paying for her recreational activities went. “You didn’t think I’d be dumb enough to come without a little wiggle room, did you?”
it’s four in the morning and that means it’s the perfect time to threaten you all to come plot with me, right? right.