#feralsfm

[chronicxwanderlust-blog]

“Sorry, D. I got caught up at the shop, so I couldn’t get to the dispo before it closed, and all I’ve got on me is that stuff you said makes you wanna vomit--” Graham had already removed the joint from behind his ear, free hand patting the pockets of his jeans for the lighter he swore he’d stashed there on his last cigarette break. There was little need for ceremony when it came to these dinners with his sister: “dinner” being a fairly loose term, since food was mostly an afterthought, a side effect of whatever it was they divulged in that night. More often than not, it was just the two on her couch, joint passing easily back and forth between fingers, mindless television on in the background. A comfortable silence Graham couldn’t share with anybody else, the kind of bond only strengthened by blood.

So, when he crossed the threshold of the trailer, he was not prepared for the sight of Arden at the set kitchen table, Drew across from him, with an empty place setting in between them. A proper family dinner, like they were the fucking Brady Bunch or something. Or The Brady Bunch, if they were missing a sibling and their parents were dead. Graham stopped in his tracks, looking between Arden, the empty place setting, Drew, the door he’d just walked through...contemplating his options, what consequences he’d rather deal with.

“...what’s for dinner?”

@cruelcasualties​​ @feralsfm​​