[Deleted]

Mattie was completely, fully exhausted. She swiped her employee badge on the time clock, and took a sigh of relief. Lately the hospital had been short staffed, which left Mattie working most days and nights. It was 9pm on a Friday – one of the busiest times for the emergency room – and though her boss had insisted she go home for some rest, Mattie would’ve happily stayed to help. Now, as she slid into the driver’s seat of her BMW – a gift from her parents for graduating medical school with a 4.0, which she had reluctantly accepted; and only because she absolutely needed a vehicle to commute – she suddenly felt the urge to go out onto the town. So, as she turned out of the hospital parking lot, she headed to the closest local bar that her GPS would take her too. It wasn’t until she parked on the street adjacent to the small, hole in the wall place that Mattie realized she may be over dressed for the establishment. Wearing a long, black sleeve top, dark colored jeans, leather boots that went up to her knees and sported a skinny one inch heel, and a leather jacket over top. In addition, her assortment of silver jewelry – rings, a dainty chain around her neck that held a worn looking music note, and diamond studs in her ears. Not to mention the fact of her vehicle definitely being the most expensive in sight. As she grabbed her wallet and stepped out, she made sure to click the lock button on her keys three times – she had absolutely zero trust for people, if they saw something they wanted, surely they would try to take it. Unfortunately for her, though, she didn’t get the chance to enter the bar. As her feet touched the sidewalk, the front door flew open with enough force that Mattie jumped back. Three men came out – two must have been the bar bouncers, Mattie assumed by the way he was waving one of the men out – two of them holding the third, one on each arm, and shouting at the top of their lungs. Once the bouncers released the third man, one of them proceeded to shove him onto the ground while telling him, “You best not come back or else!” Mattie realized the third man was clearly overly intoxicated, but she still could not allow any human to be treated with such disrespect. “Excuse me, is there a problem,” she stepped towards the bouncers and firmly injected herself. One of them began to speak, but Mattie cut him off. Her voice turned sultry, almost hypnotic in tone, and her eyes seemed to glow, “Go back inside, he will be fine. I’m here to pick him up, sorry for the trouble.” The two men suddenly seemed calm, and immediately did as she asked. Mattie didn’t like using her powers for no reason – she was siren and could control the emotions of others, which came in handy in situations like this - and while she didn’t deem this situation necessary, per say, she wasn’t leaving anything to chance – the last thing she needed was to be in a fight with two bar bouncers. She was more hoping that since her back had been to the third man – and due to his current state – that he hadn’t noticed the use of her gift. Mattie turned around and crouched next to the man – now with a closer look, she realized that not only was the smell of booze rolling off of him, but he also seemed to have sustained a few injuries as well. Besides that, Mattie could feel anger and irritation emanating off of him, which she fought herself to not alter – after all, she did not want to give herself away. Mattie was “Um, hi, my name is Mattie, I’m a doctor, do you need some help?” She offered the question sheepishly and cautiously – it only now occurred to her that maybe her help would be unwanted, and the man could possibly be dangerous, turning his anger towards her.

WORDS: 637 • TAG: Dane Wayland

[Dane Wayland]

'cause all you've ever done is
been a noose to hang on to

All things considered, the night had been going fairly well. Dane had spent most of it minding his own business, tucked into a lonely corner of the bar, slowly accumulating a tabletop of empty glasses and watching the people around him. The bar was one of Dale's regular haunts. And though he suspected the Guild defector — who'd alluded Dane's wrath once already — was smart enough to lay low for awhile, it never did hurt to check the place out every now and again. Especially when the booze was decent and cheap.

Trouble had started brewing a half hour earlier when he noticed a woman across the bar noticing him. She was seated in a booth with a group of loud, drunken men, twirling her hair around a finger and pointedly watching him with an interest she didn't try to conceal. She stroked the arm of the man next to her as she bobbed a long, bare leg over her knee, but he was too engrossed with his friends to pay her any mind. What a waste. Eventually, as Dane lifted his nth glass and polished it off, he shot her a wink.

Her smile curled as if he'd given her just what she wanted and she leaned against her distracted boyfriend's shoulder, lifting a hand to cover her lips while she spoke in his ear. She kept her eye trained upon him while she whispered and Dane returned the courtesy — confidently holding her gaze and only smiling knowingly when the man swiveled to appraise him. For a long, stretching moment longer, Dane deliberately watched the woman's face — feeling no panicked urge to look sheepishly or apologetically away — and then finally, slowly, he drew his eye to meet the other man's. The burly boyfriend was trying his damnedest to look hard and steely, his narrowed eyes brimming with loathing and his mouth pinched into an ugly scowl. Dane tipped his head and let his smile curl smugly, then pursed his lips into a tiny, playful kiss.

The man's reaction was fierce and immediate. He stood quick enough to jostle his table and knock over a number of the empty glasses and bottles that crowded its top. His friends, quickly catching on — and perhaps familiar with the couple's antics — tried to soothe him. The woman even made a half-convincing attempt at pulling him back to sit beside her. But Dane wasn't fooled. It was her game all along, of course. To be fought over. To cause a scene. To be the reason someone got hurt and — fuck it, Dane was willing to play. That was just the type of dangerous woman he wouldn't mind leaving with. She'd keep him on his toes. Get him into trouble. It would be a short and passionate fling, of course. He'd quickly tire of her little power trips and being her plaything; grow to loathe her constant need for attention and willingly send her off into the arms of the next man willing to battle for her affections.

But still, he imagined they could have quite a bit of fun up until that point.

The man shook from her grasp — she made it easy to, of course — and cut a quick stride to Dane's table. For his part, Dane only widened his smile with each step that brought the man closer. He gazed up at him cooly and prepared to make a snarky remark. But just as he parted his lips and tightened his grip on his beer bottle, the man's fist shot out to connect in a solid punch against the side of his face. Absolutely no preamble. No thinly-veiled exchange of pleasantries and insults. Straight to the point. The force was enough to send Dane sprawling out of his chair and, when he hit the ground, he shook himself with surprise, blinking hard to bring back his vision through the haze of pain. "Fuck's sake!" he spit angrily, rolling onto his back and propping himself up on his elbows, gaze narrowing at the man looming over him while he tested the feel of his jaw. "What happened to foreplay, you fucking brute?" He laughed then, watching the man's shoulders bob with heavy breaths of anger. "It's no wonder your girlfriend's eye-fucking every guy who all but looks at —" he cut the words short as the man kicked at him, not caring to hear any more, and Dane curled against the unforgiving, unmistakable feel of a steel-toe repeatedly jammed into his ribs.

The man got a few good kicks in before he crouched and began wailing at Dane's face with the same thick, badgering fists. It all happened so quickly, was so relentless and without pause, that Dane had no time to get an edge in. He grew dumber and more slack with each blow — landed one after the other with the intent to maim — and even though the group of friends were wrenching their buddy off within seconds, the entirely one-sided assault felt much longer. The man was pulled back and Dane was left to groan and writhe on the floor for only a minute before he, too, was hauled to his feet and towed away.

"You — you fucking — heathen!" Dane called out over his shoulder between pained coughs, trying and failing to get his feet under him as he was dragged off, struggling fruitlessly against the arms supporting him. He caught a glimpse of the woman inspecting the man's knuckles, presumably fawning over the skin he'd broken across Dane's cheekbones; gushing over the carnage wrought in her name. He scoffed, the sound muddled by the gurgle of blood in his nose, then cast a bleary look at one of the men pulling him along and chuckled lowly, almost deliriously. "Guy wasn't fucking around, amirite?"

The guy — a bouncer named Teddy, Dane knew, because he'd been thrown out by him twice before — didn't answer. Only opened the door into the street and shoved Dane unceremoniously out into the crisp night. He fell onto the sidewalk with zero grace and simply laid there, giving himself a well-earned moment to let the feel of cold, gritty concrete seep soothingly into the hot ache blanketing his face. Dimly, over the dull throb of blood and pain that thundered between his ears, he was aware of a woman's voice speaking to his escorts. But her words were lost to him, until they sounded again, much closer, and he cracked open an eye to gauge her from his periphery. She'd asked him a question.

"Help?" He chuckled, then immediately winced at the answering ache in his sides. Inwardly winced again at the pain in his face from wincing. He let his eyes close, remaining perfectly still where he lay. Unwilling just yet to muster the energy to move. To command his limbs to bring himself up and acknowledge all his hurts. "No, I'm... uhm, I'm great here, thanks." After a long moment, he blinked open his eyes again and, realizing the woman was still there, finally brought his arms beneath him and pushed himself to crouch on his knees. He settled his hands on his thighs and craned his head back to breathe as deeply as he could through the bubble of blood trickling from his nose. Then he gazed at her, this time truly looked at her, and cracked a faint smile. She was pretty. Maybe he'd let her be a little concerned about him after all. "Hi, Mattie. Would you believe me if I said the other guy looks worse?" He tried to laugh but the attempt only earned him a body-wracking cough and he clutched at his sides and fell back to support himself against the wall of the building. "Ugh, just kidding. Nobody knows how to have a proper bar fight anymore — damn shame."

They used to be more fun. Years ago, when his brother had been at his side, filling the holes in Dane's defenses and keeping him from being too brutally battered. If Dino had been there, Dane would have at least had a chance. An opening to fight back. Back then Dane had been fearless when it came to pulling big, dangerous men from their seats. Spilling drinks purposely. Hitting on women as they stood arm-in-arm with someone twice his size. Starting shit over nothing. Because he knew Dino — no matter how reluctant — would not only back him but also be there to drag him home after he got beaten to a bloody pulp. The whole time berating him for his stupidity, bitching about his own aches and bruises, and then laughing about the whole thing. Nowadays, though Dane hadn't shaken that proclivity for seeking out hostilities, they felt more empty and aimless without his brother there to soothe the stings.

@mattis
This is a rambly mess I'm sorry lmao. I intended for this to be a fight, but my dude didn't even get a punch in lmaooo XD
♩ ♪ ♫ ♬

[googlefont=Roboto Slab]

[Deleted]

Mattie took in every detail she could while the man propped himself up, eventually resting against the building behind them – her medical brain was well at work assessing his injuries: blood running from the nose, but not pooling anywhere else (good sign, probably meant he didn’t have any internal bleeding, or at least none that wouldn’t repair itself), by the way took sharp, deep breaths – nearly always followed by a coughing fit – he may have broken a rib or two, but likely just bruised. She chuckled a bit at his comment, something about the other fellow looking worse – hard for Mattie too believe while looking at the spectacle in front of her. Though the man seemed to decline her help, he seemed to tolerate a conversation with her. Mattie sighed and gave in – at least if she could keep him talking, she would be able to monitor him, if he started coughing up blood or became unconscious, at least she would still be around to help, so she decided to entertain his wise cracks, “Though I doubt the other guy looks worse, it does seem he may have a decent left hook,” she chuckled a bit at her own response, hoping he would not find it offensive, “and a proper bar fight? I guess I couldn’t tell you one if I saw one either, to tell you the truth.” Mattie continued to look the man over as she engaged in the conversation – as much as she could in the dim street lights. Strong jaw, dark hair, and a rather broad build; quite handsome if you asked her – had they met under different circumstances, Mattie may have actually sought out an interaction with him. She suddenly realized they had been sitting in silence for a longer moment than she preferred, so she did her best to resume the conversation. “So, I told you my name. Do you happen to have one or is that classified information?” As she waited for an answer – hopefully a name to the mysterious stranger she’d met – she glanced down at the silver watch on her wrist. “Oh my – seems this adventure has already killed over an hour of time,” her watch read 10:15pm, reminding her that she had never gotten her after work drink, or any food along with it. She thought for a moment, looking at the stranger, thinking to herself to ask him if he knew any other bars around the area – but also considering the fact that she had just met this man after a bar fight, and that he could possibly be dangerous. Not that she couldn’t protect herself. “You wouldn’t happen to know anywhere else to grab a drink and maybe a burger around here, would you? I just worked 12 hours and I’m absolutely famished – my plan was to come here, however it seems the night has other arrangements in store,” she gave a soft laugh, raising her eyebrow, tilting her head to the side as she waited for her new acquaintance to debate on his answer.

WORDS: 507 • TAG: Dane Wayland

[Dane Wayland]

'cause all you've ever done is
been a noose to hang on to

Dane fully expected the woman to nod, satisfied enough that he was alright — or at the very least, going to live — and continue on her way. She was dressed in such a way that he imagined there was a bit more fun to be sought out in her night and babysitting some drunken bastard like him couldn't possibly be high on her list of preferred activities. He wouldn't blame her. And he hardly needed a well-intended caretaker anyway; Dane Wayland, in all his careless glory, had seen himself through countless other nights in far, far worse condition. This was nothing. He'd mope about in self-pity for a while, complaining and groaning about his aches, and then he'd get up and limp off in search of his next misadventure.

But Mattie chuckled, joking that the other man had a strong left hook, and his eyes flickered back to her face appraisingly. He lifted a hand to smooth across his jaw, feeling the angry warmth radiating under his skin and the ache to his bones; familiar promises of swelling and ugly, yellow bruising. Commonplace shadowings upon his complexion, considering a large part of his lifestyle consisted of waging wars and struggling to find sleep. He nodded his assent, lip curling with smug amusement. A strong left hook indeed. It was only a shame he hadn't been allowed the chance to return the courtesy.

She asked his name and a hint of curious suspicion filtered into his gaze as he poked it about her face searchingly. He had to briefly wonder why she bothered. Most people would sidestep the bloody, beaten drunk as they were tossed from the club. Then again, with her being a doctor, it was a safe assumption she was somewhat accustomed to making other people her burden. Wasn't keen to turn a blind eye or ignore someone in apparent suffering. It was the curse of the benevolent. The price of morality. A kind of selfless obligation that was completely unfathomable to him. He didn't care about anyone that way. And since Dino's disappearance, he imagined the reverse was true as well.

His eye dropped to her mouth and he considered attempting a flirty line. Perhaps some impish purr about how his name was indeed classified and that she'd have to charm it out of him. But... being removed from the bar that he'd spent hours in... the feel of the fresh, crisp night air... and the lingering thunder of rushing blood and ache between his ears... it all made him realize how drunk he was. It'd been simple to ignore while seated in the same spot as long as he was, surrounded by other inebriated idiots, but now... in the relative quiet of outside... with cold, wintry air nipping at his hot face... and a set of pretty (very much sober) eyes on him... the heavy pull at his limbs and the spinny, untethered pull within him was more apparent. He figured the line might sound clumsy and he might not possess his usual, smooth grace to follow it up properly if she were receptive.

So, reluctantly, he decided not to bother. The wry curl to his lips smoothed into something more neutral; a fainter smile that was less expectant and more resigned. When he wet his split lip and spoke, his words lacked the typical lull that he might have otherwise used when under the scrutiny of someone pretty. "I do have a name, actually. Funny that." He snorted softly, suddenly deciding to be a tad more honest than usual as well. "Under more typical circumstances, I might tease that you'd have to earn it. But since you're being so nice — and I'm feeling particularly stupid — I'll offer it for free." He paused with a thoughtful hum, eyes glinting as they rose from her mouth back to her eyes. They were the color of slate, tinged by blue, and though they were open and not unfriendly, he detected (or imagined) a bit of guardedness in their depths. Good girl. Perhaps she was not so naive as some other doctor-types. "It's Dane."

Using the wall behind him for support, Dane climbed to his feet. He stifled a pained wince, covering it with a forced chuckle as he clutched at his protesting ribs. Twelve hours she'd been working, huh? He knew it wasn't uncommon for medical professionals to be constantly run ragged; imagined that continuing to play helpful Good Samaritan to just another stranger was the last thing she wanted to do now. "If it's a burger and a drink you want, this place is probably the best." He admitted, stabbing a thumb in the direction of the door he'd been so unkindly tossed from. "No need to settle for something less on my account, I'll be just fine on my own." He offered her a decidedly reassuring smile, wiping away the grit that clung to his palms and jeans. He was always fine. Unfailingly. No matter where he fell down at the end of the night — comfortable and spent in some stranger's bed or facedown in some alley — he'd no doubt wake up curled around his dependable dog and ready to make another go at being stupid and dangerous.

"Otherwise...." he cast his gaze across the street, at all the various other bars, arcades, sports grills, and the like that dotted the block. "You could go there." He pointed at one of them. "Or there." Pointed to the next. "Or.... there?" The next. He arched a brow and brought his gaze back to her, certain the point was made. "They're all pretty much the same, aren't they? Really, it depends on how and where you're hoping to end the night."

@mattis
♩ ♪ ♫ ♬

[googlefont=Roboto Slab]

[Deleted]

Mattie could not help but study - perhaps a better word was fixate - on every move the man made.  she watched as he felt the large, darkening area around his jaw, and nearly winced for him - she felt his pain - though, she could tell by his demeanor that he was not about to admit he had been beaten and tattered - probably within inches of his life.

however, the thing that interested mattie the most was how the man felt.  because of her empathic powers, she constantly felt the emotions, and the man was oddly calm. she would've guessed someone who'd just participated in such a brawl would be more frantic, angered, or upset at the very least.  this intrigued mattie, and made her want to investigate.  she listened as the man uttered his name, doing her best to keep his attention. "unique name for a seemingly unique person...not that that's a bad thing," she smiled softly, adding another soft chuckle, "or should I beware, dane?"

the banter - and the curiosity of trying to figure out his emotions - was keeping mattie entertained.  at first, she had been helpful but cautious, however now she felt some sort of safety - though, she didn't give into her naivety quite yet - maybe a sort of trust, even, that dane wasn't going to hurt her, which put her at a sort of ease. she smirked as dane made a joke about having her "work for his name". "hey now, don't go so easy on me - I'm a pretty hard worker, I think i would've done just fine," she teased him, by his words and actions, she could tell he was the flirtatious type - but for some reason was holding back from it with her.  not that she minded it either way, though she hadn't quite expected their conversation to take such an authentic turn.

as she listened to his recommendations, she watched as he pointed to each restaurant.  the way he spoke gave mattie the distinct impression he was not intending to tag along with her, which almost immediately made her stomach turn.  for a reason she could not fathom - maybe based on the odd emotions she felt from dane, or her own intrigue - she had a distinct feeling of her own not to let him off on his own. the way he tried to half avoid her, even though they had been in conversation for more than a few minutes now, and how he so easily lifted himself up against the building wall after receiving such bodily damage, told her he was used to taking care of himself.  which to mattie read one thing: alone. she had been a "fixer" her entire life, and literally could not resist helping the poor unfortunate souls of the world - even if sometimes it went against her better judgement. plus, she had to admit she was currently enjoying his company.

mattie returned her thoughts and attention to dane's attempt at a half wise crack, half flirtatious statement. she could still feel the calm in his emotions.  she was intent on keeping him around - it was figure out this mysterious person, or go to sit alone on her couch. mattie stepped so that her back was now to her car, sideways between the cross street and dane. "I'm not sure yet - how i intend to end the night, I mean," she slightly lifted the corner of her mouth into a playful smirk as her eyes flickered with mischief, "we'll see how our dinner and drink goes...but one thing's for sure: we're either going to make some good decisions, or some fun ones," she gave him nearly zero option on attendance, and was confident she now held his interest also.

Dane Wayland • Words: 634 • Notes: apparently I can't decide on a template lmao

[Dane Wayland]

'cause all you've ever done is
been a noose to hang on to

Should she beware? Dane mimicked her snort, one corner of his mouth tipping into a wry, lopsided smirk. She had no idea. Spoken from her lips, the inquiry was more or less a teasing caution — perhaps footed in some genuine wariness, but dressed blithely. A joke. Possibly even a flirtatious one. Implications that maybe drunken brawlers tossed out of bars could be trouble or that all handsome, flirty men were dogs. Both assumptions were true in Dane's case but that was only scratching the surface. In no way could she suspect or guess the depths of who he was or just how justified any intuitive twinge of doubt in her gut was when regarding him.

"Oh, you should definitely beware," he answered with a breathy laugh, genuinely amused. It was underexaggerated honesty, presented in such a way that it could be taken lightly. A simple, teasing volley to match her own. A truthful warning disguised with kittenish humor. What was the worse she could think, anyway? That he joked and flirted a bit too much? Was a hopeless, reckless drunk that enjoyed starting shit in dingy bars? If she was truly uncertain about him, she did well to conceal it; the guardedness to her eyes appeared to be diminishing with each exchange, shifting instead to something more akin to curiosity. He wondered how those same eyes might widen — the attractive playfulness amid their slate-grey depths fading — if she knew the understatement in his admittance. Became aware of just how innocent and trivial a botched barfight was in light of his more... involved... night-time activities. The idea, or perhaps the presumed inevitability of it, made his eyes bright and humorous as he offered her a quick wink. "But you're right, I think you'll do fine."

His brow climbed in subdued surprise when Mattie's next words implied she fully expected him to join her as she continued her night. He tipped his head curiously. It was a bold move. Something he might say when trying to impress with forward charm. She didn't even pretend to give him another opening to excuse himself. It wasn't a coy question or half-hearted suggestion, but a simple plan, presented as if he'd already agreed. It was also questionable. Why? She was pretty and sober enough to catch a dozen eyes as soon as she entered any bar he pointed out. For Christ's sake, she was a doctor. Hard-working and well-intended. Hopeful suitors would trip over one another to be the first to offer a free drink. Why limit herself?

Did she have a thing for battered men? He was already half-sloshed, bleeding and bruised, and had almost entirely given up the intention to try and wiggle his way into anyone's company for the night. The leggy vixen before had been a swift and utter defeat and it really wasn't worth the tab he'd accumulate trying to pick over whoever was left lonely in the next bar at last call. Hell, he hadn't even needed to win this woman over with some elaborate lie or make himself out to be someone even somewhat respectable. On the contrary, he'd actually been uncharacteristically truthful — introducing himself as the type of guy who got tossed out to the sidewalk, agreeing (albeit jokingly) that she should give him a berth, and providing her ample chance to leave him to his own, stupid devices.

But, fuck it, who was he to say no? At this point, she'd been warned (at least more warned than most) and was a grown-ass woman who could make her own horrible, surely regrettable, decisions. It wouldn't be wise to encourage her that there were much better ways to spend the night and much better company to spend it with. Not when her current trajectory benefited him so obviously.

Dane gave himself a very deliberate once-over, eye skipping purposely on his own blood and spit dotting the collar of his shirt. Then he drew his gaze back to her and quirked a brow. "If you haven't noticed, I'm not one for good decisions, so I suppose we'll shoot for the fun ones." Giving himself a shake — trying desperately to instill an edge of sobriety — he offered an arm to her and let his lip curl into something sly. He tipped slightly toward her to add in a lowered tone. "Though I find your taste in men to be somewhat alarming." He straightened, eyes brightening. "And you'll have to do a bit of catching up before we eat. It'll make the conversation, the food, and whatever else, so much easier." He beckoned across the street. "You choose the place! That way if things go squirrely, I can remind you it was all your idea, after all."

@mattis
i'm the same with templates lmaoooo
♩ ♪ ♫ ♬

[googlefont=Roboto Slab]

[Deleted]

mattie looped her arm inside of dane’s and started to walk towards the opposite side of the street towards the other establishments. she made a bee line for the first place she saw. “this will do, i suppose.” she walked them inside and chose two spots at the end of the bar right near the door. at least if she had any regrets or sudden feeling of unease, she could make a quick break for it. but even though she had no idea where the night was taking her – or any certain plan of her own – she somehow felt she would be safe, and dare she say have a good time, with dane.

the bartender scurried over after a few moments and asked for their order, “i’ll have a busch light, bottle and a cheeseburger, please, thank you,” she paused and made a quick glance at dane, “then whatever the gentleman would like – you can take it all out of this,” she dug into her purse – she had nearly forgotten she had it until now – and found her wallet, pulling out a few bills. she waited a few moments for dane to order his drink, and handed the bills to the bartender before he could protest. as the bartender shuffled away to get their drinks and mattie’s food, she followed with a quick, “oh, and keep the change.”

once the bottle of beer was placed in front of her, mattie took a long, eager swig. she needed a wind down after a long day. she set her bottle back down easily, and turned herself in her seat so she was facing dane, throwing one leg over the other. one hand fiddling with the opening at the top of her drink, and one resting on the back of her chair while holding her chin, she gave a grin, “so, tell me – what on earth were you doing in a bar fight?” she paused for a moment, raising both eyebrows, and giving a snort, “good lord, now I sound like your mother.” she thought carefully for a moment, choosing her words as though they had some mythical meaning, “but really though, tell me – was it worth the trouble? misunderstanding? or is this not such a rare occurrence, some sort of adrenaline rush?”

she took another drink while she waited for dane to answer. it dawned on her that she could be presenting herself as too prying, which she hoped she wasn’t. she understood that it truly was absolutely zero percent her business what had happened before she entered the equation – and technically, well after that, too. she took in all of her own thoughts: what if she had walked away? gotten back into her beamer and driven off, leaving the man to fend for himself? but mattie knew the wave of guilt would have completely taken over – washed out her feeling anyone else’s emotions and eaten at her core. also, it seemed dane was well intentioned – or enough that he wasn’t going to slit her throat and leave her in a ditch somewhere – and she had been enjoying her night. no regrets, this is the right thing, I can feel it, she thought to herself and felt content in the moment.

she realized it had been a moment or two of the man staring at her while she thought, and that he had not yet started his story of the night’s previous events. of course, because he’s wondering why I asked and then quit listening, she chuckled to herself – pulled herself out of her own thoughts, and managed to muster up a few words – “sorry, I drifted off there for a second,” she looked him in the eyes, a hint of playfulness and a touch of curiosity within her own, “let’s have this story, shall we?”

Dane Wayland • Words: 634 

[Dane Wayland]

jesus christ, don't be kind to me,
don't feed me, i will come back

With no discernable hesitation and no fuss over where they should go, Mattie took his offered arm and began leading them to their new destination. Dane's mouth tucked at the corners with amusement, feeling very much like a complacent puppy being coaxed along by a lead. Typically, he'd bristle at handing over the reins. Dig his heels in on principle alone when someone else decided to call the shots (even if he didn't necessarily disagree with them). Just to make things difficult. To have it known that Dane Wayland was his own person and wouldn't fall behind anyone. They were small, desperate acts of rebellion — little moments of shit-head victory — that he'd made a staple of his personality, likely in order to beat back the hideous truth that his life — lorded over in many ways by his father and the Guild — was much less his own than he'd like to acknowledge.

But he'd invited Mattie to take the lead and being bossed around by pretty women was the most obvious and enticing exception. So he limped willingly along beside her as she led them into the nearest establishment and chose two seats at the bar, closest to the door. The bartender was quick, no doubt eager to make a good tip, and Dane watched his new companion as she ordered for herself, speaking with the same, unquestioned confidence with which she'd taken him in. At her prompting, the bartender turned his attention to him, and Dane squinted thoughtfully. He was already a half-dozen beers or so ahead of Mattie. If he had very much more and decided to keep pace with her, chances were he'd end up asleep on the floor, hugging a barstool to his chest, before they got through her meal. The idea wasn't particularly attractive when he could imagine other possibilities for the night.

Despite his inner turmoil, when Dane parted his lips, it was to mindlessly order another beer — "Blue Moon." — and he inwardly scoffed. Oh well. Maybe he'd just sip. Food could wait, probably until morning. That'd put him under for sure. Mattie dug money from her purse and Dane let his mouth curl into something feline as he propped an elbow on the bar to cradle his achy jaw. When the bartender shuffled off, he let his eyes half-lid and hummed with teasing accusation. "Oh, you're buying, huh? Is this some predatory ploy? I mean, how will I ever repay you?"

The beers were placed in front of them and Dane quirked a brow fancifully as he watched her down a damn near quarter of it in one long, enthused swig. He brought his own bottle before him with his free hand but only turned it idly in his palm, dutifully resigned to taking it easy, at least for now. Mattie angled toward him, propping her face in her hand while she stared at him. At her question — and the follow-up that she sounded like his mother — he gave a snort. "Hardly. If I were to come home, stinking of booze and bleeding, my mama would beat my ass. Probably put the first guy to shame." The words were fond, the skin crinkling at the corners of his eyes as he chuckled, picturing his mother's stern words and sterner fists. Calling him by his full name as she reprimanded him to be more careful and less of a Wayland asshole. Waking him up with a water hose when he passed out in his own vomit on her back patio. It was her own specialized brand of concern and he loved her dearly for it.

Mattie appeared to lapse into her thoughts then and Dane blinked at her studiously, wondering what occupied her so completely as he let his eye trace the gentle slope of her jaw and linger on the natural pout to her lips. When she shook herself back to awareness with a chuckle, he lifted his brow. "No worries — drift off as much as you want. Gives me a chance to just look at you." The flirtation was ham-handed but he let his lip curl anyway as he straightened and finally lifted his beer to his mouth to take a purposely-restrained swig. Smacking his lips with exaggerated satisfaction, he lowered the bottle back to the bar and pretended to give it a long study as he turned it between his palms.

"The story isn't very interesting, I'm afraid," he sighed, considering for a moment that he could make the story whatever he wished. Perhaps he came to some poor girl's rescue. Tried to fend off her pushy patrons and got pummeled for it. Thwarted an attempted pickpocket. Stood up to a bully. But... honesty seemed to be working in his favor tonight and he lacked the current brain capacity to be passably charming in his fibs. "Insecure boyfriend, girlfriend with a wandering eye, and me, the poor sap minding his own business caught in the middle." He lifted his gaze from his beer back to her, letting it flit briefly between her mouth and eyes. "It's not a rare occurrence, more like... a bi-weekly happening or just another night." He grinned again, drawing his tongue over the taste of copper still coating the inside of his mouth. "Surely, much more interesting is your story. Who are you? And what's with your proclivity to picking up bar brawlers busted up on the sidewalk?" He tsked. "You got a thing for strays? Underdogs? Or am I just a wild exception?"

@mattis
♩ ♪ ♫ ♬

[googlefont=Roboto Slab]

[Deleted]

Mattie chuckled as Dane made a joke about how his mother would truly react if he came home in such a drunken stupor, “Maybe it’s a good thing I stumbled across you then, you don’t look as if you could handle another hit,” she smirked, hoping he wouldn’t be offended at her attempt at a joke. Though it really wasn’t – her medical brain was still worrying about all of the possible things that could be wrong. That was most of the reason she wanted to keep an eye on the man, however he didn’t seem like the type that often welcomed warmth and kindness; therefore she intended on just keeping him around until she was certain he would be alright if he returned to his home – or wherever else he may end up. Hopefully not in trouble again, she thought as she contained her urge to roll her eyes a bit.

Half of her was disappointed as his typical, cliché story. She had fully assumed it to be the other way around – Dane throwing the first punch when someone had become more or less bothersome to him, being he was the one who had been thrown out. She shifted slightly in her seat, realizing that if he had not started the fight, it probably meant he was at minimal a regular nuisance in the bar. Mattie was now even more worried that if she didn’t keep him occupied, he would march off into the night to introduce another fist to his face – and god forbid he would be seriously injured or hurt. Not to mention the consequences if that happened – theoretically, if anyone connected the dots, it could mean trouble for Mattie and her medical license. Besides that, she didn’t mind the company anyways.

She smirked at his next question – one she wasn’t often confronted with – and mulled it over for a moment. She tilted her head slightly, “My story? I’m not sure we have time for that,” visions of her parents, particularly her mother, danced in her head. Her story? Her parents had basically disowned her – how could the daughter of two of the most prestigious physicians in Seattle birth a freak for a daughter? Especially her mother – Mattis Sr had fully taken on Ambrose’s ideas that those with gifts were the outliers of the world – though in the last few years, Mattie had given her father some credit. She believed he must have realized that if he wanted her to return to Seattle (which was never happening, either way) he would have to accept her on some level. Her mother, however, had gone fully insane – sending Mattie flyer’s in the mail for ‘gifted conversion camps’ to help Mattie ‘adjust to society’. The idea of even opening the pamphlets made Mattie sick.

She chuckled once more, “I don’t make a habit of it, but I don’t suppose I have a complete aversion to it either. I just…like to help,” she paused to take another drink of beer, shrugging her shoulders, “I just think that sometimes everyone needs a little help – whether they think so themselves or not – and that once they are healed, they can fully embrace who they are, or improve. But you can’t really do anything alone, you always need support. So I just try where I can.” She shrugged again, and finally ripped off a piece of her burger – it had arrived somewhere in the mist of the conversation. She could feel the emotions of everyone around her – most of them spewing of enjoyment – but she focused on Dane’s. They had shifted a bit now, he was gaining more confidence – awfully slowly – in her good intentions, not as guarded as he had once been, softening ever so slightly.

Dane Wayland • sorry this took so long, here you are! <3

[Dane Wayland]

jesus christ, don't be kind to me,
don't feed me, i will come back

Dane pouted as Mattie refused to indulge him with "her story", though the expression didn't quite reach his eyes. He wasn't too disappointed. Wasn't like to poke and prod for her to tell him all about herself. Perhaps if there was a too-long lull in conversation or their situation required a bit of direction, he'd bring it up again. Pretend a little teasing insistence for her to open up and fake some interest in whatever she chose to share. Otherwise, he'd always been perfectly content with knowing as little about a person as possible. Even the prettiest ones.

She continued, offering a bit more substance when answering his inquiry about helping drunk, bleeding jackasses like him. The words gradually smoothed Dane's playful pout into something neutral and vacant. By nature, she wanted to be helpful and wanted people to better themselves. And that itself wasn't particularly surprising or thought-provoking. A lot of people were that way — altruistic and generous. Not people Dane ran around with, of course, but a lot of people. Bleeding hearts and the like. What really coaxed Dane's expression into something progressively impassive was her spoken opinion that someone couldn't do everything alone. That they always needed support.

Whether it was the way she said it, her soft gaze and her kindness so far, or if it was simply the alcohol — it touched a sore spot. The corners of Dane's mouth quirked into an attempted smile that was unconvincing while his sombering gaze slipped slowly from her face to her plate of food. He hadn't always been alone and had once had infallible support in his brother. Dino had been his foundation. His tether. A reason to do things. But then he'd gone and gotten himself killed — that, or had run away, which would somehow be worse; an intentional abandonment rather than a stupid accident — and left Dane groundless. Directionless. Floundering for a reason to give a shit about anything.

Dane scoffed a quick, sardonic breath through his nose, the noise and feel of it markedly less amused than the ones before. "Cute," he said simply, the word notably emptied and somewhat dismissive; his heart not truly in it as his eyelids fluttered closed and he lifted his beer to his lips. Fuck it — abandoning all resolution to take it slow and pace himself, he swallowed, then swallowed again, gulps growing increasingly greedy until the beer was completely emptied; its contents a desperate bid to wash the unwanted thoughts away in one of the best ways he knew how.

Alcohol wasn't his first choice when it came to beating that sharp wistfulness from his mind, but it was a close second. The first was violence — picking fights with people much larger and stronger than him. Asking and goading for more until he could hardly think past the adrenaline lashing through his veins and the pain seeped deep into his muscles and bones. Bruises, split lips, stab wounds, and fractures — all those familiar, physical hurts — were far preferable to the sick, ugly gnawing that could coil within. Those aches ate at him from the inside out, unable to be pointed to and patched up. Couldn't be laughed about and prodded at. Every time he got beaten to a bloody pulp, those wounds — no matter how ugly or severe — eventually healed. Would become just another scar. They were nothing. But those other, nameless pinpricks of ache never seemed to mend. Could only be chased away and distracted from. Shoved aside and forcibly forgotten about until something inevitably tore them back open; made them raw and angry again.

Dane dropped his emptied bottle back to the table, pinching his eyes shut tighter and lifting the back of his hand to wipe away the drink that'd dribbled from the corners of his mouth and down his chin. He blinked his eyes open and focused on the feel of alcohol settling in his gut. Let the sensation of it blanket the "everything else" that threatened to distract him as he turned back to Mattie.

"That's really cute," he repeated, this time with a bit more successful inflection as he snagged a fry from her plate and popped it into his mouth. While he chewed, his face screwed into an exaggerated, thoughtful expression and he drummed his fingers along the bartop. He swallowed and angled more squarely in her direction, dropping one hand to his thigh while he leaned back in his chair and picked at a napkin on the bar with his other. "But I'm curious — what do you do when someone doesn't want to improve? Say... oh, I don't know... the handsome, oh-so-charming man you pick up from the street one night and try to help... insists that his getting beaten up and thrown out of bars is like... the highlight of his week... the very best version of him, he's living his best life, no help or support necessary." He quirked a brow, a faint smile returning to the corners of his mouth, more inquisitive now than flirty. "Do you give him up as a lost cause? Or do you dig your heels in? Try and fix him into what you think your version of his best self is?"

@mattis
Np at all! There's no rush from me, ever lmao. <3 Sorry these replies have been coming quick, Dane's just the easiest piece of poo to write for lmao.
♩ ♪ ♫ ♬

[googlefont=Roboto Slab]

[Deleted]

Mattie stiffened in her seat – she wasn’t scared or even surprised, but Dane’s emotions hit her like a rock. She could feel everything he was feeling, and he had taken a turn from calm, possible enjoyment to closed off. She had said something that bothered him, which of course was the exact opposite of her intentions. She assumed he previously endured something which caused him to have an aversion to speaking openly on a deeper level. To her, her comments were trivial, but she was completely aware that to others she sounded overly selfless or naïve, where they had learned more caution.

She sat as he gave a more aggressive rebuttal, stealing one of her fries somewhere along the way. He seemed to be more taunting now than teasing – confronting her, almost. How could she ever be so trusting and helpful to others? His eyes seemed to echo his actions, ‘not me’ they cried to her – he was content by himself, she could tell that much. But she truly believed that no soldier could walk through the battle of life alone – it gave way for defeat rather than triumph most times; ‘strength comes in numbers’ as the old saying went. “Cute, huh?” She echoed his sarcastic, mocking tone.

After listening to his objections, Mattie instinctively reached her hand out to rest on his arm as a form of comfort. She could feel something – not sure if it was pain, anger, or something else – but she pulled it back after a moment, rested her elbow on the bar, and her chin on her fist. She gazed around the room and thought before returning her eyes to Dane’s.

“You were the one that noted I do keep company with the strays,” she hoped her half hearted attempt to bring the mood back up to it’s joyful, playful banter would be well received, “but…in reality…” She drifted for a short second, thinking of her next words carefully. “I do not fix people how I would enjoy seeing them. I try my best to fix whatever is preventing them from becoming who they are – or who they want to be. In cases like yours,” she tilted her head towards him, acknowledging that his short anecdote was about himself, “I can’t force anyone into anything. I can only be here when I’m needed, when I’m not needed, I sit back and watch until I am. Maybe like a silent guardian angel would be the closest thing? But that is putting myself on a completely higher level than what I deserve credit for.”

She noted that she was giving plenty of details to someone she had met only a few hours ago, however she had the same, butterfly feeling as before – this was the right thing, he seemed like he needed a companion, if only to speak aimless ideas to – at least it was interaction. “You know, I’m always willing to listen,” she offered it meekly, knowing it would cause the man to either hit the end of whatever fuse he had, or that he would accept and return her kindness. “Especially if the one speaking to me is always this charming and handsome,” she gave another attempt at a tease, hoping he would be more receptive with flirtation added in.

Dane Wayland • no worries, I think they flow together quite nicely lol xD

[Dane Wayland]

jesus christ, don't be kind to me,
don't feed me, i will come back

He could sense that his own slip from levity had an effect on her. Mattie stiffened, though only slightly. The minuscule tensing might have gone unnoticed by someone else, but Dane was accustomed to observing such tiny, innocuous changes in a person's demeanor. It was a skill he'd learned young. At first, it had been for simple precaution. A necessity for hunting. A means to gauge an opponent's thoughts and anticipate their next move. But somewhere along the way, he'd decided it was entertaining as well. To watch his words and actions invoke reaction. To watch a lip twitch as he sneered something dastardly. Eyes darken as he poked someone to rage. It was always so gratifying.

At least... when it was intended. When he was phishing for fights and doing his damnedest to wind someone as tight as they could go. Seeing how much they could take before they snapped. He hadn't meant to raise Mattie's hackles or turn her back against him. It was less amusing.

She placed a hand on his arm and a very instinctive part of him inwardly bristled. It wasn't the flirty, suggestive brush of fingers he wanted, nor was it the forceful, bruising brace of an egged-on confrontation that he was used to. Just a simple touch that she retracted quickly. Mattie repositioned herself and drew her gaze around the bar and, while her stare was elsewhere, Dane let his own drop to the place her hand had been. This was beginning to feel less like a wine-and-dine and more like an attempted therapy session and he smacked the taste of that around in his mouth, liking it less. After a moment, he curled his fingers into his palm and shifted so that he was sat more squarely against the bar with both arms folded on the tabletop, out of her reach.

She returned her attention to him and answered his rhetorics. None of what she said was particularly surprising, but still, he had to stifle a scoff as he thought it over. She would sit back when she wasn't needed and wait until she was? A guardian angel? Ha. It sounded more to him like she was accustomed to being used. Reached for only when someone backed themselves into a corner or was low on their luck. She'd wind them back up, breathe some life into them, and then they'd go on their way and forget about her again. At least until they slowed to a stop once more and needed her to turn the key. He knew that game well because he often played it himself; only shadowing stoops when it suited him.

Did it get exhausting? Did she not expect anything in return? Of course, she'd surely have real friends in the mix. People who cared about her and looked after her in the same way she did others. But Dane imagined there were far more who only wanted what she could provide them. What they knew she'd give and give just because she felt it was right. Dane didn't see the point of the whole thing, really. He supposed, if he asked, she'd have some answer along the lines of seeing people happier and taken care of was all the payment she needed. Seeing people better themselves. The thought made him want to giggle with dark, cynical fascination — most people didn't change. Despite her best efforts, she'd only enable them with her hospitality.

"That's very noble and kind of you," Dane answered simply, voice edged with amusement. His gaze traveled across the bar to watch the bartender, waiting to catch the man's eye so he could get another beer before him as quickly as possible. As much as he was successfully ignoring the implications that Mattie thought he needed comfort or a friend, he still needed to wash the flavor of the whole thing from his mouth. "Though I do wonder now," the bartender looked at him and Dane's lips pulled into a pleased smile when he gave a knowing nod and turned to retrieve another bottle. "Do you have someone who takes care of you? Does Mattie have a Mattie?"

The beer was placed before him and he grinned his thanks while he dug his phone from his pocket and slid it across the bartop to her and unlocked it. He looked at her and quirked a brow. Having a doctor's number in his contacts would be convenient. Especially one who likely wouldn't turn him away due to her own moral standing. And even more especially, one who was pretty and didn't yet despise him. "I'm no Mattie, obviously. And I'm more..." he mulled over his choice of words, pressing his lips into a thoughtful twist while he gave a noncommittal shrug. "Guard dog than guardian angel. Also not a great listener." He snorted a quick chuckle of amusement, once more tickled by the understatement. "But I'll call you if I need some fixing, if you call me if you're in a spot of trouble. The type you think a brawly drunk can help." He let a smile tease at his lips again. "Or if you just get really bored and want to have some fun."

@mattis
i call this magic trick of mine "watch me forget how to write words entirely", sorry for this mess, lmaooo
♩ ♪ ♫ ♬

[googlefont=Roboto Slab]

[Deleted]

she watched closely, dane became more skeptical of her with every sentence it seemed. however, it was apparently possible that she was entirely wrong - she must have looked almost shocked as he slid his phone towards her. she smirked at his suggestion that she needed someone much like herself in her life. in that moment, it occurred to her that she didn't. she had made sure to make herself quite entirely alone - a select few that she kept close for various reasons, none of them friendship. "ha, I suppose it's karma that I really don't. I like to keep myself kind but...reserved - I'm not as naive as i seem, ya know."

she picked up the slim device and started entering her demographics - she used her full first name, knowing he would likely question it - and number. "alright, deal," she smirked playfully, pulling out and opening her own phone, "and also, it depends what kind of fun you're interested in - what kind of girl do you even take me for?" She slid the phone to dane, and took another swig of her beer - finishing what was left - as she searched for the bartender as her companion had done moments ago. she held her  now empty bottle up, gesturing for another.

she wasn't sure what sort of answer to expect from her new acquaintance. what did he think of her? if only he had knowledge of her past life, growing up to two wealthy, famous doctors in Seattle; only to turn out as a gifted being and be practically disowned by her mother - the reason she couldn't bring herself to use her full first name. Mattis ophelia fox ii. she hated that her mother followed her wherever she went - she had started going by mattie as soon as she had moved to california for college, and never gave it up after.

mattie glanced at her open phone in dane's hand. "oh man, it's really that late? we've been at this a few hours, huh?" the clock read 12:30 a.m., which meant they had been involved in their conversations for a little over two hours. somehow, though, mattie felt there was more to be had. she paused, mulling over her options as the bartender finally slid her another beer and threatened last call. she had a ridiculous idea, but her curiosity had a grip on her - judging by the emotions she was picking up off of dane, his was not quite dying down either.

"oops, looks like we're getting kicked out of here," she paused, thought once more, and decided the worst that could happen was she would end up dead. which, in the long run, she was going to anyways. "where are you off to next? i can give you a ride - or if you'd like to finish letting me in on anymore deep, dark secrets - i live not far from here," she took another long, enthusiastic drink as she posed the invitation.

Dane Wayland
absolutely no worries, dear loL; i am in the same boat xD

[Dane Wayland]

jesus christ, don't be kind to me,
don't feed me, i will come back

At Mattie's answer — that she did, in fact, not have a guardian angel of her own — Dane's gaze narrowed thoughtfully. Karma, she had said. Karma for what, exactly? If she were out and about being the Good Samaritan that she was, didn't she deserve good things in return? Did she not think she was deserving of the same generous treatment that she dumped upon others? To be regarded with the same accepting invitation and cared for? If she thought not, then there had to be a why, and as much as Dane told himself he couldn't be assed to care, he was curious.

She took up his phone and entered her information, making him smirk inwardly while she spoke of naïvety almost simultaneously. He didn't doubt she was perceptive and intelligent. Really, he couldn't fault her entirely if she trusted him — as much as he despised his father, the shitty old man had made his sons capable of being disarming and passingly affable. But anyone who willingly scooped him up and invited him inside would eventually realize it hadn't been wise or smart of them. Sooner or later. When he left them cold and alone, if not worse. He'd be hard-pressed to find a person who could say they didn't regret knowing him or who'd speak of him fondly as they recalled the (often brief and destructive) window in which he'd graced their lives.

But Mattie didn't have to know that. He quirked a brow at her inquiry, holding her gaze for a moment before he took up the phone he offered her and entered his own number. "Whatever fun you have in mind right now, that's the one I'm interested in." He said blithely, typing in only his first name and a couple of (mostly) self-praising adjectives in parenthesis — 'Dane (charming, handsome, drunk)' — and passing it back to her, exchanging it for his own. He blinked at the new contact in his phone, brow crinkling a bit at her name. Mattis, huh? He'd guessed she was a Madison, Madeline, or maybe even a Matilda. He shrugged inwardly, ultimately deciding that any first and last name combo didn't quite have a place in his list of contacts; he made a brief edit, backspacing and overriding with a moniker of his own choosing.

She commented on the time and he barked a short, warm laugh at the options presented to him. "You're offering to take me home with you?" He smothered his face with a hand as if embarrassed by the proposition while his eyes regarded her levelly, crinkled in the corners with amusement. Usually wiggling his way into someone's nightly company required a bit more effort on his part. Some women made him all but prostrate himself before them, figuratively kissing their feet. It was a game he didn't mind playing. But Mattie had seen him a bit beaten up and was ready to cart him home like some poor, neglected puppy. He couldn't help but feel a thrum of habitual suspicion. Was it too easy? Was she only being so unassuming and glaringly good to get his guard down?

The possibility only added to his enthusiasm.

Dane shifted his palm so he could tip his head into it, regarding her openly for a moment, blinking slowly like a studious cat, before he nodded. "Okay, I'll bite. But just so you know — this isn't helping my thoughts on 'what kind of girl' you are. You're really tempting the jury here." He pocketed his phone and slipped from his stool, closing the distance between them; prepared to gauge her reaction as he leaned a little closer than necessary and raised a hand to brush his knuckles down the length of her forearm. He smoothed his fingers into her palm, then — with a mischievous curl to his lips — eased the bottle from her hands. "If you're driving, you won't need this, right?" He chuckled (finding himself unbearably hilarious), then lifted her beer to his lips to finish in one, long, and very self-indulgent drain.

@mattis
If you need more to work with here, just lemme know lmao.
♩ ♪ ♫ ♬

[googlefont=Roboto Slab]

[Deleted]

she watched as he entered his demographics into her phone, passing it back. she laughed as she read his commentary after his name. "oh i see, descriptive words to be sure I remember you, is that it?" she was honestly surprised that he hadn't asked about her full name - most people wondered where it came from. she quirked her brow, "hmm, no other questions regarding my peculiar name?" she decided she would call it out for him, if for nothing else but to make conversation.

she wasn't sure what sort of fun - or, perhaps it would be trouble - that she could stir up with dane. he seemed harmless enough, maybe due to her light flirting and the constant sarcasm both of them seemed to throw back and forth, but she was sure at the very least the rest of their encounters would be interesting. two guarded, quiet, lonely people reaching out to one another when they needed someone to lean on - or drink with, perhaps.

mattie flinched slightly and nearly withdrew from his touch - she wasn't one for any sort of affection, especially with those she had just met. though, she supposed it was 'payback' in a way for her earlier grasp of his arm. he did get a chuckle and a smile out of her after swallowing the last of her drink, "I suppose you're right, I don't. i'm bad enough without it," she winked, hopping up from her seat. "i'm the beamer parked near the bar you got thrown from."

she extended her arm in a half circle, as dane had done earlier in the night, welcoming him to join her. "well, you coming or not?" she smirked playfully at him once more, waiting for his response.

Dane Wayland
oof I call this "this is the best I can do rn" xD hopefully I can get back into actually words/flow and some quantity with mattis sooonnn lol