Boychild & Girlchild.

she quickly slammed down the phone, heart racing with fear, sweat dripping

Adam laughed at the cheese factor of the movie; worse than the third Saw. Of course, the bimbo would answer her cell phone while the murderer was in the room. Really, who did that?

He rolled his eyes, taking out his own phone when it signaled there was a text. He grinned, reading about “the party of the century” that was to take place in roughly an hour. With fumbling fingers, he texted an affirmative and slipped a new shirt over his head. Wildchild would have to be there, right?

(He was.)

Wildchild seemed far more relaxed today, dressed in casual, work safe attire and sporting a brand new haircut that sparked his interest like a flame to gunpowder. Wildchild worked a formal, average job that didn’t fit her. She was just like everyone else.

Hesitantly, he spoke.

“Hey, you want a drink?”

Wildchild twisted around, her loose hair's flips coming undone and creating a messy look down the back of her head. “Ehrm, yeah, sure. M’Olive, off chance you didn’t know.”

Adam was confused by how she spoke – did she know everyone knew who she was in the party scene of this stupid, dinky town? – but he nodded and smiled, “I’ll be back in a minute, then. I’m Adam.”
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ohai second subscriber. ily. and thank you for the comment :3