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Summary
“You’ve got a Loop in your hair, dog.” It’s true. There’s a blue one caught in a bit of matted hair near where his sideburns would be, if trolls had them. You resist the urge to pick it out.
“I do not,” he quickly dismisses your comment and pulls another handful of cereal out of the bag. He’s in such a hurry to get it down whatever passes for his stupid troll gullet that pieces of it fall out the corners of his mouth, collecting in his lap and on the metal slab floor like bits of confetti at the shittiest little birthday party that ever got thrown.
Series
- Part 4 of HSWC 2013 Fills
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Bookmark Notes:
the language and rambling metaphors in this fic are just GOOD. SO GOOD.
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Bookmark Notes:
kind of sad
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Bookmark Notes:
Dude