[He eyes the scars for a moment longer. The burns are a surprise, but the rest less so. Comparatively, Griffin has less from his own storied history, (apart from the missing arm,) and all his freshest are from Games.]
...Thanks.
[Then he jabs himself in the gut with the dagger in one swift motion, minimizing splatter. He pulls it out, and gets up to wipe the blood off on his already ruined shirt.]
[The Feint throws him the phone, and Griffin starts texting with-- actually an anxious expression on his face. He knows he got carried away, and all this was... it didn't feel like a mistake, not in his blood?
But it paled in importance to Shrike.
She was understanding, and... maybe this would stretch the limits of that. All he could do was be honest with her. Otherwise, that really would be degeneracy.]
[Sorry, Griffin's still having an emotional meltdown over how much he loves his girlfriend. His eyes are glistening and he's rereading her texts to him over and over, utterly moved each time.
When Jay comes over he just buries his head in his arms and. Has to take deep breaths.]
[Griffin comes out clean and changed - the stab healed any hint of Jay's teeth and rough kisses, so the only souvenir of their 'fight' was his long hair.
Which was sopping wet, despite his best efforts at wringing it dry. Stupid, fucking hair. He's given up trying to braid it right now. Sigh.]
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[He eyes the scars for a moment longer. The burns are a surprise, but the rest less so. Comparatively, Griffin has less from his own storied history, (apart from the missing arm,) and all his freshest are from Games.]
...Thanks.
[Then he jabs himself in the gut with the dagger in one swift motion, minimizing splatter. He pulls it out, and gets up to wipe the blood off on his already ruined shirt.]
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No problem. Now text your girlfriend, I’m going to shower and spare myself.
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[The Feint throws him the phone, and Griffin starts texting with-- actually an anxious expression on his face. He knows he got carried away, and all this was... it didn't feel like a mistake, not in his blood?
But it paled in importance to Shrike.
She was understanding, and... maybe this would stretch the limits of that. All he could do was be honest with her. Otherwise, that really would be degeneracy.]
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it's a good 30 minutes later that he comes back, tossing the new clothes onto the lower platform couch, because he knows his bed isn't safe.]
Gotcha some clothes, and shower's open now.
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When Jay comes over he just buries his head in his arms and. Has to take deep breaths.]
...
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I'll grab the pizza, too, then.
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[When Jay leaves, he'll get up, wipe his nose, then grab the clean set of clothes and head to the shower.]
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Rude boy.]
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Which was sopping wet, despite his best efforts at wringing it dry. Stupid, fucking hair. He's given up trying to braid it right now. Sigh.]
You save any for me?
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[meanwhile his neck is definitely all roughed up. He just hasn’t bothered to cover it up.
Plus the black eye.
It’s fine.]
You can double fist since you’re not grabbing your dick anymore.
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Don't make me give you another black eye!
[Plops down and takes ONE piece, because holding pizza in a metal claw isn't easy or all that hygienic.]
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[he is going to finish his slice.]
But also I’d like to see you try.
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You wanna go again?!
[He's only half serious, but also
Half serious]
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Nah. Today’s my victory.
You gonna need a haircut, by the way?
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Probably.
[He assumes Jay meant in the near future, or before bed, something. Shoves the rest of slice #1 in his face.]
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I could probably cut it for you.
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What, you can cut hair now?
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I mean. If you want to so bad.
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‘Sides, it’s just “cut as short as possible.” That’s easy.
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[He knows Jay wouldn't, not on purpose. But he's still a dick.]
Whatever. Less hair for you t'pull on.
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[IF GRIFFIN NOTICES-- his hair is short. but it is definitely not buzzed.]
Also, you liked getting your hair pulled.
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[...He's not really sure how, though. There's kind of a confused shift in his eyes as he tries to distract himself with his pizza.]
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