𝑾𝒂𝒚𝒍𝒐𝒏 "𝑲𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒓 𝑪𝒓𝒐𝒄" 𝑱𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔

𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑝𝑟𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑐𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑙𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑠
𝐹𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑑 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢.

a close up of a crocodile 's face with the words we do n't written on it . ALT: a close up of a crocodile 's face with the words we do n't written on it .

me when we don’t

Ivy, there ain’t anyone who doesn’t want you. Figured you’d be annoyed by it.

Trust me. Size does matter.

Hmph.

Ain’t nobody big enough to pin me so can’t relate.

Why the fuck does everyone want pinned against a wall???

Happy fer ya, ya psycho.

… whatever. Bring the food. Don’t care how I get ‘em, as long as I get to eat.

…he doesn’t have to waste it.

Ugh. Fuck Valentine’s.

Yer insane, you know that?

(Insert a grumpy huff.)

I don’t know what that means.

If we’re not dating, why are you trying to be romantic?

WE AIN’T DATING

……….. did you hit yer head?

Why the fuck do you want to hand feed me?

And that’s supposed to make me want him?

… yeah.

If yer gonna annoy me, bring food next time.

I’m too old for that shit. Besides, anyone into this (motions to himself) is insane.

I ain’t datin’ nobody.

… hmph.

I should’ve killed you when I had the chance.

THAT AIN’T MY BOYFRIEND.

😒

Waylon shrugged, dropping the man who landed with a definitely-gonna-feel-that-in-the-morning THUD.

“Fine by me. I’m goin’ home.” Not one for social norms or small talk, Waylon turned and began to walk away.

“Suit yerself. But if I show up at the station with somebody in my hands, they’re gonna shoot first, ask questions never.

So I’ll carry him some of the way but then yer on yer own.”

Waylon turns the man over, shaking him until the robber’s pockets emptied himself.

“You want me to eat him? I don’t mind. Ain’t nobody gonna notice he’s gone.”

+ coming to a stop next to the apparently capable street medic.

“You okay?” He asks plainly, reaching down and, with one hand, picking up the unconscious person.

God fucking damn it, why can’t anyone in this damn city stay out of trouble?!

Waylon ain’t fast, he knows that. But he’s going as fast as he can. When he sees the scene, a deep rumbling growl escapes his throat and his eyes lock onto the assailant—.

Wait, it’s Rose. Waylon slows his charge, +