Starts Gnawing At The Bars Of My Enclosure

starts gnawing at the bars of my enclosure

imagine parents crowding around iroquois high school, waiting and praying to see their children run out.

in the middle of the horde of people stood the kriegman and gabriel parents. they ran from work, hopping in their cars and going at least 20 over the speed limit. they’re standing together, arm in arm, knowing that their boys will run out together.

suddenly, a student runs out, yelling that it’s andre and cal. she’d had a class with them and recognized them straight away. cal and andre’s parent’s hearts drop. people around them start staring.

a policeman comes through the crowd to get the kriegmans and gabriels. multiple people had stated that their children were the shooters, not just that one girl.

mrs. gabriel falls to the ground and mr. kriegman goes completely silent. there’s something in the air, a sick and stale cloud that has overtaken the entire world. cal and andre’s parents think they could vomit and hope that the world will swallow them up.

they repeat over and over again that there’s no way it could be their kids, absolutely no way. somewhere deep inside them, though, they know cal and andre are behind the shooting.

randy’s love language has always been physical touch. when he was little, he used to get hugs and cuddles from his parents. after his dad left, his mom became overbearing and every hug he gets from her feels like she’s trying to suffocate him.

he avoids everyone’s touch. when someone passes by him and hits his shoulder, he feels like dying. when hardy slaps him on the back, trying to be supportive, randy feels like he’s gotten the wind knocked out of him. even when he’s working front of house and someone sneaks behind him, their slight touch makes him jump.

it changes when he runs away with benson, though. benson’s touchier than he’d like to admit. his hands are always cupping randy’s face, rustling his hair, and wrapping around his waist.

after a while, randy becomes comfortable with the contact. he doesn’t get goosebumps or back away from benson when his hands come near. when they’re laying in bed in some random worn down motel, randy wraps his arms around benson’s neck and lays his head on his breast, listening to benson’s heartbeat and feeling the rise of his chest. on days when they drive for hours, randy intertwines their fingers and traces patterns on benson’s skin.

it’s subtle, but randy’s in love with it. the touch makes him feel grounded, as if they aren’t escaping from the police.

HEY I JUST WANTED TO TELL YPU I LOOOOVE YOUR POSTS I'VE BEEN READING THEM FOR LIKE 2 HOURS. LOL SORRY I WAS TO SCARES TO TEXT YOU DIRECTLY!!!! I HOPE YOU FEEL WELL AND UH. BYEBYE :3

HIIIIIII YOURE SO SWEET OMG??? IM SO GLAD YOU ENJOY MY POSTS!! DONT BE SCARED TO TEXT ME BTW MY DMS ARE ALWAYS OPEN!! I DONT BITE I PROMISE! I HOPE YOURE DOING AMAZING AS WELL <333

do you prefer. The uberlame north tower with the lame antenna or the kickass south tower with the AWESOME HELIPAD and the FUCKING KILLER OBSERVATION DECK.

SOUTH TOWER ALL THE WAYYYYYY 🙌🙌🙌

south tower didn’t deserve its fate 🚫🚫😫😫🛩️🛩️

“you’re so going down!”

eric’s voice echoed throughout his family’s house. he stared at alex with wild eyes, observing how the brown haired boy breathed heavily and bent down to put his hands on his knees.

the two had been playing just dance for about an hour. eric’s parents had gotten the game for his younger siblings to enjoy on the wii, but it seemed that eric used it more. he picked the worst songs, pop ones that repeated the same three words over and over again.

“dude, you’re fucking evil,” alex said in between sighs. “how much do you practice this damn game when i’m not here?”

eric didn’t want to admit that he constantly challenged his siblings to play against him. he also didn’t want to admit that he often lost. the only person he’d ever won against was alex, plus his mom on the day they bought the game.

instead of answering alex, eric started flicking through the dances, finding his favorite one. it was one of the harder ones, rated four stars of difficulty instead of the regular one or two.

as the music began blaring, alex had to fight the urge to throw his remote at eric’s head. he hadn’t had dancing on his agenda for today, especially not dancing in his best friend’s living room where his parents can walk through and see them.

before he joined eric in dancing once more, eric screamed at him.

“dude! hurry the fuck up. you’re missing so many points!”

alex whacked the back of eric’s neck with his palm before lazily dancing to the rest of the song. he made a mental promise to stop playing after this song even if he had to fight eric to do so.