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[Petre's still got his hand as they walk into his apartment, and it's only not grating because he's basically being dragged, not held out of any kind of affection. Still, he drops it as soon as he's inside, glancing around.]

Cookie-cutter. [Like the dorms. His nose wrinkles a little.] Looks just like mine. Gotta get into the district by the beach, some big house, but that means working.

[Not the two of them. He's just thinking out loud, since he hasn't really made any plans beyond being here yet.]

do you think our dicks are the same size

Hope you haven't found a replacement Ikea date yet.

i hv had seme drunks petre
pls be awake this is Important

what on earth is this supposed to be?

( image attached. someone still can't handle her own infamy. )

[He wasn't lying. He really does hate texting. But this is a stupid move he's pulling, pure vanity, and he's not willing to do it with his face or voice attached.]

How old do you think I am

Edited 2015-05-19 05:13 (UTC)

[There's been quite a lot of stalking going on in their odd little triangle, and now it's Cole's turn to stalk down Petre. He hasn't spoken to him since Birkhoff made his report, no offers for drinks or odd questions, and any attempts at contact that Petre might have made have been ignored.

Now he's waiting outside their usual bar, hoping that maybe Petre comes here at other times, with other people. Hoping he won't be taking whoever it is home. Eventually he does appear with someone, and it's Cole's lucky day, because they part ways not far from the entrance. Following in the shadows as quietly as he can, he waits until Petre is somewhere quiet and secluded, then finally steps into a pool of moonlight and loudly disengages the safety on his gun. He's got both hands on it, pointed right at the back of Petre's head.]

What'd I say about Birkhoff.

We need to talk. About your offer.

Petre something weird happened.

petre
light of my life

Petre. Time for you to make good on your promise not to hurt my friends. In any way.

I'm not telling this time, or threatening. I'm asking.

kieren's got an american twin.

[Isn't it funny how Cole doesn't reply to that network post about body parts, but he's right there at the door moments after it goes up?

KNOCK KNOCK.]

[Yep, it's snail mail. A card that looks like this on the outside, because that's one-upping an e-card sent through text, right? Her loopy, flourishing cursive is only just legible inside:]

Sorry for being a cunt about you eating people. Perhaps we could talk properly sometime instead of me throwing a strop.

- Celeste

how do you feel fancy suits and pretending we are anonymous strangers for a night?

hi

this is kieren. jem's brother, obviously. that bit's important because i'm about to do the overprotective sibling thing, so

don't hurt her, alright? i know you guys managed to patch things up

she's happier here. she's getting better. part of that probably is because of you, so just....

don't fuck this up

that's all i really have to say

need your help with an intervention

you know what's a great way to end a shitty day?

quick q
are you in work?

walnut i'm going home tomorrow for a few days to visit mum and dad
will be back on saturday

kieren's got lady, promise she is safe hands :)

[ happy birthday this is his card ]

ok enough moping we're going out tonight

ps wear the butt plug xoxo

john thinks there's someone in this city that's cooler than me

wtf petre i can use 6 different kinds of gun anf shoot a pheasant out of the sky

Hello, Petre. [There's a smile in her tone.] So I was thinking that you and I should meet up again.

so who's your favorite person today?

You get three tries to get it right or you don't win a prize.

you busy?

[Action, post-m&g | SMUT AHEAD, nsfw, nc-17, etc]

text;

voice.

2am drunk texts just like he wanted