So tell me, Mystery Boy," Jules said, brushing his hand briefly, "Are you the mysterious roommate I've heard so little about?" She leaned towards him, "You're quite talkative, not too bad looking either." She winked at him and leaned back, fiddling with the burn on the back of her neck, the burn she told herself wasn't from the fire.
“Oh good, you’ve accepted that,” Vaughn said, the corners of his lips twitching up into a barely noticeable smirk. Why don’t you show him again? Just a reminder, the whispers suggested darkly.
//tbh if I was on when she asked about fire Venezia probably would’ve given an answer equivalent to Tom Hiddleston’s answer on his favorite Shakespeare play xD
“Yes, the little voice in the back of my head spent half a night regaling me with all the wonderful details,” Kaz grumbled, resting his chin in the palm of one hand. “Would have been great if I just didn’t remember it,” he mumbled, and his mind snickered at him giddily
(The ppl I was interacting with when I had to leave, left.. -_-)
“You’re lucky I didn’t break your nose,” Vaughn added, straightening his posture. He looked over at Kaz, smirking a tad more now.
Kaz rolled his eyes, wincing slightly at the headache he was getting from trying to ignore his mind. “Yeah, yeah. Wouldn’t be the first time, wouldn’t have been the last.”
“You’ve been beaten up before?” Vaughn asked, his brow arching in question.
Kaz rolled his eyes. “Duh. Have you seen this ugly mug?” he asked sarcastically, pointing to his face. “How do you think I got this thing?” he asked, pointing more at the small but noticeable scar across his left eyebrow
Vaughn had the urge to say that Kaz wasn’t ugly, but he held it in. “You call that a scar? You should see what I’ve got.”
Kaz rolled his eyes again, rolling one of his sleeves up to expose the bandages wrapped around his wrists and forearm. “Try me.”
Vaughn hummed as he saw the bandages. “What’s underneath?” He asked, head tilting to rest against his palm.
“Hmm, what kind of injuries do you think a depressed sociopath would be hiding on their wrists? You get three guesses,” Kaz grumbled
“You did that yourself?” Vaughn asked, a brow arching. He didn’t understand why anyone would hurt themselves. Pain was just uncomfortable and inconvenient.
“No, the tooth fairy did,” Kaz said sarcastically, rolling his sleeve back down. “Congratulations, you now know one of my little not-so-secret secrets.”
“Why did you do it?” Vaughn asked. He thought back to what some therapist or something used to ask him. How do you feel about this? or Why do you feel the need to claw the doctors eyes out? Just the basic stuff.
“Because life sucks and I wanted to prove a point,” Kaz answered simply. “That, and I mean come on. How great would it be for the CEO of Grey Enterprise’s wife to find her nephew bleeding out in her million dollar tub?”
“That’s a terrible way to prove a point,” Vaughn grumbled, once again resting his head down on his forearm.
"Yeah, but do you know how damn expensive it would be to wash the blood out of bamboo?" Kaz joked, though there was the faintest hint of something off in his voice. He hadn't done it to spite his aunt exclusively, though that certainly was one of the reasons. He definitely wasn't going to tell Vaughn that, though. No, he didn't tell anyone the real reasons behind the scars
Vaughn gave a noise that sounded like a grunt, shrugging his shoulders. “There were a lot of other things you could have done, that was a terrible decision,” he said in a low tone.
"Yeah, but it also doubled as a sixty-forty chance of bleeding out and getting off this miserable mudball. Sure I'm guaranteed a spot in hell, but at this point I'm pretty sure that would be better than living on this planet," Kaz grumbled, resting his chin in the palm of one hand
“So you want to die?” Vaughn asked, voice still a bit muffled from how he was sitting. Of course Kaz would only say that if he wanted to die. Boy, was he confused.
Kaz did a small double take at the bluntness of Vaughn's words. "Well, uh. Sort of?" he said, rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly. "I mean I definitely do every time I add a new scar to my wrist, but it's not like I would totally throw myself off a cliff or something," he said. He did want to die, but there had always been the small part of him that still hoped. It irritated him sometimes, but it kept him alive he supposed
“So.. What you’re saying is that you cut yourself on purpose and hope that it will kill you?” Vaughn continued. He was never the type to sugar coat things. No, he got straight to the point with speaking his mind.
"Kind…of?" Kaz said. Normally people wouldn't press this sort of thing, but Vaughn seemed…persistent? Did he…care about whether or not Kaz tried to kill himself? No, dumbass, he's just gathering information to use against you. He'll probably just tell you to go kill yourself the next time you piss him off, and you might actually listen that time, his mind hissed, causing Kaz to frown slightly. "You know, why does it matter? You don't seem like the type to care," he asked suddenly, tone slightly defensive without meaning to