[so he's just gone.]

[magnaccia]

 
(Meile's sitting on his and Near's bed, with a few bottles of unopened booze sitting next to him, a pack of cigarrettes on his stomach, and his goggles set firmly over his eyes. One of the cigarettes is stuck firmly in his mouth, lit, and blowing smoke rings. He stares at the ceiling, ignoring everything else. He can't need anyone right now.

He

Comments

[magnaccia]

(Blankly:)

Smokin'. 'Bout ta drink mah ass wasted.

[magnaccia]

Fuck no.