Pete's fever wasn't going down.
It wasn't really Pete's fault. He had started eating more regularly, even if slowly to not upset his stomach.
(He didn't want to vomit his insides all over the duvet again. It hadn't been a pleasant experience.)
He had started sleeping more, too, and even though it had mostly been accompanied by disturbing dreams and could be described as anything but nourishing, at least it was something.
This wasn't really Vegas' fault, either.
Well. It was. It was difficult to explain, and Pete didn't quite have the mental capacity or the patience to make Vegas understand why he hadn't magically healed in a day thanks to a bowl of noodles, a couple of pills and some bandages wrapped around his torso.
In all honesty, that was a lie. Despite Pete's reluctance to admit it, he had been way more patient that he should have. More than he could sustain.
Today, his patience seemed to be at its limit. Pete didn't let it show - he never did, he couldn't afford to, not even now - but he could feel it brewing under his skin. The urge to snap at an anxious Vegas hovering above him with blood-shot eyes and trembling limbs was big and tempting, but Pete knew better than to succumb to it. He simply closed his eyes and breathed in through his nose, trying to forget about it.
Vegas, of course, wouldn't allow that.
"Pete," he heard Vegas whisper. When he didn't respond, Vegas said it again, louder.
"Pete. Hey, look at me."
Pete did.
"Do you not hate me?"
Pete didn't answer.
"Don't you want to kill me?"
Pete sighed. He refused. H wouldn't give Vegas the satisfaction.
"How would you do it?"
This was starting to get irritating. "Vegas-"
"Tell me, Pete. What would you do? Would you use your hands or a weapon?"
Pete couldn't escape this. He realized when he looked at the pure desperation in Vegas' eyes.
"I'm a bodyguard, aren't I?" he foolishly said, his voice breaking slightly. He lifted his head and stared at the ceiling. He could picture it; him wearing his uniform, blowing Vegas' brains out with his gun.
The image brought him no satisfaction. Only a faint sense of dread he couldn't rationalize.
Vegas' humming snapped him out of it. "Yes, I can see that. I can't imagine you using a knife, though."
Pete felt slightly offended by that comment for some reason.
"Why? Don't you think I have the guts?"
"It's too... emotional a choice for you. You wouldn't use it to kill me."
Right. Pete huffed in amusement.
"I guess you're right. I'm not like you."
This did the trick. Pete could feel the effect of his words, the hostility Vegas was emitting. It gave him goosebumps, despite the temperature of the room.
The sound of the door closing harshly made him flinch, a racing heartbeat remaining for a while afterwards.
It didn't bother him. He was finally left alone.
It didn't matter if he'd manage to get better or not. If only Vegas could see that.
(A snippet inspired by a scene in the movie "Eileen")
61 notes
·
View notes
FLASH SALE
Okay guys, you may have seen that I’m moving in a week. To that end, I’m going to be putting my Etsy shop on hiatus until we’re settled in a new place. However, for the next week I would love to clear out my backstock of fragrances and bottles, so I’m offering a sale on every fragrance in stock. This does not apply to scents I’d have to special order.
Here’s how it works: I will create a custom fragrance for you based on your tastes. You can select from my list of in stock oils below, or give me an overall profile, like “woodsy/warm” or “spicy/sweet” or “floral/cool”, etc and I will make one for you based on vibes. A one ounce bottle is $15, a two ounce bottle is $20, and I’m offering free shipping in the United States for the length of this deal!
This offer is good through 5/13, as I will be packing and driving on Sunday, 5/14, so grab it while you can!
Choose your blend from the list, then send your payment via Paypal or Venmo (@greymichaela) with the combination you want, the size of the bottle, and your shipping address.
Under the cut is a list of my current stock of fragrance oils to choose from:
Warm:
Bay rum
Frankincense
Amber
Sandalwood
Tobacco
Vanilla
Clove
Cinnamon
Cardamom
Black Vetiver Cafe (coffee undertones and spicy and woody notes)
Woodsy
Teakwood
Oakmoss/sandalwod (oakmoss and sandalwood, with tonka bean, cedarwood, and lemon)
Palo Santo (notes of Palo Santo wood, warm amber and soft musk. A soothing, creamy and woodsy scent)
Cypress/citron
Mahogany/teakwood (one of my most popular!)
Pine
Cedar
Cypress/redwood
Cypress
Floral
Lotus blossom
Rose
Flower shop (floral blend of roses and greenery)
Sandalwood/rose
Orange blossom
Lavender
Carnation
Peony
Rose/geranium
Gardenia
Sweet pea
Plumeria
Sunflower
Magnolia
Honeysuckle
Lilac and lilies
Fruit
Raspberry sorbet
Strawberry
Pomegranate
Black fig and honey
Assorted
Lemongrass
Lemon sugar
Orange
Bergamot
Black amber/lavender
Patchouli
Espresso
Sweetgrass (smells like fresh cut grass)
Brown sugar
Honey almond
Peppermint
Verbena
Honey vanilla
Butter vanilla
Silken oud
Cinnamon orange clove
Vanilla cardamom
Marshmallow fireside
Fresh linen
Cool water
Salted caramel
Old time barbershop (Bay rum, sandalwood, and earthy patchouli)
52 notes
·
View notes
I asked one question. Did my partner want to do anything or go anywhere before I take a shower. I can't go sit down anywhere but the kitchen chair because I'm sweaty and dirty from the yard. Just a yes or a no. Instead, there's been paper towels thrown, doors slammed, getting up and walking away from me, and a refusal to speak to me. So I'm going to assume that's a no.
4 notes
·
View notes
Daniel saved Grace because he wanted to. If he stayed alive and saw their family dying, even the kids (he genuinely didnt give a fuck about those fuckers), he wouldn't blame Grace anyway. He wouldn't want to kill her, he wouldn't try to hunt her. If anything, he already believed all his family, including himself, deserve to die. He was that miserable and traumatized.
I genuinely believe that if he saw his entire family being blown up, but by the will of the devil stayed alive bc he actually tried to save Grace (and the devil finds it fun), he would've said a simple "Go." He would've told her to get out of there. He genuinely believed that Grace deserved better. The worst case scenario, Daniel would question why the hell did he stay alive when the only person in this family he genuinely cared about was Alex and now he died. He would've either tried to end his life then and there (after cursing at Le Bail, questioning on why, and still not getting killed even then. And I can even imagine Grace trying to protect him. Trying to convince him leaving with her, "We'll think of something. Daniel, please." Shielding Daniel from Le Bail.) Or Daniel would've become even more depressed & then it only depends if he finds reasons to live (and maybe seeks Grace out after a while, talking through this nightmare) or not.
But at no point in the story I think Daniel would've tried to hunt Grace down and kill her after he is so desperately tried to save her ("Alex might be in a wrong not to tell her, but do you remember how you reacted when I told you?"). Daniel tried to warn Grace at the very beginning but also didn't think it's his business (and he wanted Alex to be happy). It was very conflicting for him & I truly believe in him and his good personal treats. Also, Charity couldn't give a single fuck about Daniel and his well-being, only about the money, so why should I care? She didn't love Daniel and only insulted him again and again. Screw her.
You can believe otherwise, but not on my blog and not on my posts. This is a free Daniel x Charity & Alex x Grace zone. I won't elaborate any more than that (at least not at the moment). Please just leave if you disagree (and do not hit that reblog button if you disagree. I am not up for a debate.)
39 notes
·
View notes
The tap makes a horrid squeak as it forcibly turns, Khare gritting her teeth at the sound - and sight - of murky water pouring forth into the too-small bathtub. The one for hot water goes untouched as well as ignored - it doesn't work anyway and the cold feels much more refreshing even in the tiny unheated apartment she now calls home.
Sinking her lower half into the depths, the waitress breathes a sigh of relief as the chilly liquid hits her skin, instantly soothing the throbbing ache pulsating in her hip. At once the eyes growing there calm, no longer swivelling blindly in non-existent sockets at whatever caught their foul gaze. She sighs again, picking up a bar of cheap soap and debates whether or not it's even worth using before the eyes in her shoulder squirm, vying to be drenched next.
It disgusts her, the way they move but more than that she disgusts herself, Khare doing her best to hold back bile while peeling off the bandage protecting her forearm. Already the eyes there have grown back, looking angry and red as they too squirm to which she obliges, dunking her aching forelimb into the watery depths until they settle down.
After she'd soaked for a couple of hours, she'd take the pumice stone to them again, scrubbing and scrubbing until they'd all rubbed off and turned the murky water an even filthier shade than it was to start with.
12 notes
·
View notes
It's pretty fun but also kinda sad that Alex can pick up on patterns in other people's behaviour extremely easily and can predict their intentions almost spookily well, but when that same person is talking to him, his own personal hang-ups and paranoia entirely skew his judgement
So like he can tell just from observing the behaviour of a distant colleague's new boyfriend from afar for less than five minutes that he has ulterior motives for being with her, but if that same guy walked up to him and turned out to be a fan who then paid him a genuine compliment, he would perceive it as insincere because his personal perception of himself and the intentions of the universe toward him in general due to his curse and his constant paranoia messes with his judgement
Or like he can physically see and perceive that someone is stone cold sober but if they flirt with him he assumes that he must have missed something and that they're probably drunk because why else would anyone do so unless their mentality was critically impaired in some way?
But he gets annoyed with Louise for not always being able to tell when other girls at the bar are just pretending to be nice to her, and at Caroline for wondering whether or not her current boyfriend is lying to her over text about where he is and who he's with, because he can read into people's typing patterns scarily well within just a few minutes of studying it and the truth is just glaringly obvious to him.
But if Caroline just casually texts him "What's up? :)" one day, he's unsure if she is truly just asking him 'what's up' or if it's preceding some kind of further interrogation that he should being to prepare for, despite having known her personally for many years
2 notes
·
View notes
Trying to grow my hair out like Geto's. When I say I want that man's hair, I mean it will be mine and I cannot be stopped. My hair has never been softer. How has this happened? Is his hair this soft? Is this part of my inevitable descent into being a supervillain? Will I, too, make a really bad (if understandable) choice and then sunk cost fallacy my way through the next 10 years until I inevitably get my ass handed to me in a heated battle with a teenager and get finished off by the love of my life?
3 notes
·
View notes