#their hair is dull and crusty their faces are dirty and bruised their clothes are worn and everything is right in the world

[homosexualslug]

give it up for natural brunettes!!!

[cpirits]

(( muse -- Ritsuka Aoyagi from Loveless

★ ━━━━━━ Puffy dull eyes, with dark rings underneath. That’s what he saw peering into the broken mirror he had salvaged from a dumpster days ago. He face was so tired, as he sat on the ground with his hands clutching the sides of the broken glass. His space under the overpass was slightly damp, causing him to bundle up as much as he could, finding old Newspapers to stuff into his sweater to deter the cold winds that roughly struck through his living space.

Tousled dark, and matted hair. That was on top of his head after days of neglect and not caring for his appearance. His nails were chipped and dirty after days of digging through trash for food, and the like to keep himself conscious. His lips were dry and chapped from him picking at them, and his clothes were wet, and muddy, almost crusty and hard to the touch.

He had a old ripped up blanket he had gotten off the street and was using it to keep his legs and lower body warm, his feet kept covered by the same pair a sneakers he’d worn for the past 3 years; his feet hadn’t changed. The pants he wore were dark, and stained, with bloody marks, and burns on the outsides. His legs under the fabric were in no better shape, bruised in places, and sticking to his pants were slight wounds, and scratches from the day a few weeks back, some men had stolen him in his sleep, tied him to the back of a truck, and had their way with him.

The young man, 17 years of age was one thing. Pathetic. He knew that the second he got his home repossessed, and he was left to live where he was now. Pathetic. His life really had no meaning, everyone was gone, and whomever he had loved in the past betrayed him or left him alone.

Tossing down the precious piece of glass, it landed on some cardboard his usually slept on, but tonight, he’d not rest there. Standing, Ritsuka neatly cleaned his space as best he could, packing things inside a duffel bag, again something from the trash not two houses down, they had tossed it just because it had no handles and the side pocket were gone.

Stepping away from his home, the young male moved toward the street light near his old home. Leaning on it, he sighed. Why were things this way… It happened again and again, he was left alone. First Seimei, then his friends, he stopped going to school after Misaki--his Mother--became ill and he took care of her.

He had no hope to cling to, nothing to gain from trying to change things. Yet there was a little spark inside of something that could be, he’d just have to try. "I wonder what I’ll find tonight?" He mused as his stomach growled. He was hungry, and since it was nearly 9 at night and he had no money; he was going to locate his dinner in the nearest trash can.

Walking down the sidewalk he pulled his sweater closer, folding his arms around his body. After removing the crumpled Newspapers, he was very cold and shivering to stay warm.