• You and Deimos were very different, and despite this, you always managed to find a common language, even though you were a couple, your love language was too aggressive for other couples, since you were both cheerful, you often just fought with each other. He was a menacing punk, always turned the music up loud, he didn’t sing songs, he screamed them. And you were emo, so your clothing styles were different, although it was just tastes in music, but he looked like a punk, the only thing was that he didn’t have a mohawk. And you were just emo, only without bangs over half his face, in general, you were almost two different worlds.

Deimos was a fan of sometimes smoking, which you basically didn’t care about, as long as you didn’t smoke of course, and he liked how cute you were when you smoked. He held the joint between his fingers, pressing you to him on the bed. His leather jacket was lying on the floor, as was what was in his pockets, because it just fell out. And yours. bag with badges was hanging on the edge of the wooden bed, with snow-white bedding, on which, of course, there were stains that would never disappear.

He, looking at your phone, pushed you towards him with his hand so that you would press closer to him, you didn’t like it and you turned around to say a few ‘affectionate’ words to him. But before you could say anything, he put the filter of the joint to your lips.

“Riley, don’t be stubborn, take a drag.” He coaxed you, smiling from ear to ear, where the gap between his teeth was visible.*