#he rly wishes he had some tape to cover his mouth rn

[bloodtwin]

relief washes over him as arawn spins his embarrassing slip of the tongue into a joke, smoothing over any potential awkwardness from being too honest—even if his laugh sounds bitter. puck is starting to understand why the others would disapprove of willingly drinking truth serum. 

he doesn’t have anything equally as witty to quip in reply, so he goes straight for the introduction instead. ‘ puck. ( i think. ) i don’t know, actually. it’s possible i just made that up. ’ oh, gods. he’s still talking. ‘ you know, i’ve been wandering around this whole time, saying my name is puck, & i don’t even know if that’s TRUE. i mean— ’  finally, he manages to shut his mouth. all right, so not his best introduction in the world, but still not his worst. that should count for something. he clears his throat, scratches behind his ear. ‘ sorry, i just drank a truth serum because i’m a fucking idiot. ’  an idiot who thinks he doesn’t have secrets. oh, good job, puck. you kept that one to yourself.

Arawn blinks, a slight headache forming at his temples, it clears as the other man looks away. He's used to people not quite meeting his gaze. Between the scars and the rather unsettling color of his eyes, well, he ain't winning any beauty contests.

And then the other man is talking and that's...a decent amount of personal information. Arawn doesn't exactly know what to do with that level of intimacy from a stranger. He feels unmoored by it, the twin desires to laugh with the man and run from him warring in his heart. There's fear there, but there's also recognition, like calling to like.

Because, well, fucking same. A past he can never go back to and yet was relentlessly haunted by; Visions of a slaughtered town, and a little girl, too young to know her papa's face, dance behind his eyes for a moment. There's wings folded at his back, he can't see them but he can feel their weight shackling him to a destiny he no longer has control over. He shakes his head and tries for a smile.

It doesn't sit quite right, but he forces it anyways.

"Join the fucking club," he laughs, sharp and bitter. "Let me know if you find out how to stop the haunting, I'll take any tips you got."

"I'm Arawn, you got a name?"