"Adrienne would take a human sexuality class, and she started talking to me about this class, and for a kid that's 18, some woman about 21 years old talking to you about her human sexuality class… well, our conversations got pretty long."
— Billie Joe Armstrong on his early phone conversations with his wife Adrienne
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The headache was back. The bile in her throat.
She killed her.
The body was mutilated. This thing inside of her, it was happy, as if the body were a display.
A smile crept upon her face. No, no, she should feel guilty.
Right?
But, oh, looking at that poor bard, it felt so good.
Adrienne sat in front of the fire later that night. Trying, just trying, to remember anything from the night before. The questions swam around her head, causing her to grow dizzy. She placed her head in her hands, clawing at her face.
“You know, I don’t care that you killed the bard, but you could have been more subtle about it” Astarion said as he approached. Her ears felt so full, she hadn’t even heard him stalking toward her.
She glanced up at him, eyes wide. Her companions had avoided her for most of the day aside from basic questions about their next steps in their tadpole-driven journey.
Although she wasn’t sure if she even wanted the company.
Turning her attention back to the fire, she whispered, “I don’t know what I did, Astarion.”
He sighed, taking a seat on the log beside her. “Then talk,” he demanded, softly. “You’ve been spasming and twitching the whole time I’ve known you. It’s time to explain yourself”
So she did.
The memory loss, the constant urge to kill, maim, and mutilate. The endless headache and waves of nausea only cured by the comfort of her own dark thoughts.
“Well darling, I would encourage you to embrace your true nature, but after I’ve seen what it’s capable of, well…” he paused, “let’s at least try to keep the sacrificial murders out of the camp”
She glared at him, her eyes burning hot with tears. She refused to let them fall.
“Astarion, I can’t.” She croaked.
She glanced back to the fire, trying to force the tears away. Her hands placed themselves back on her head, fingernails digging into her flesh. As if desperately clawing the urge out.
He let out a sigh, but to her surprise, he moved next to her, sitting on the dry dirt surrounding the fire.
They watched the flames in silence.
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Adrienne and Charlotte ❤️🔥 silly lesbian characters shared with Jeannette
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