mitsubishievo | O, daĭ mi lyubovta [for Jack]

Kavinsky gave himself a week. He gave himself a week of distance and focusing on other things, and he was going to get over this stupid infatuation. The knowledge that Jack liked someone else was almost settling, really. It helped to keep the onus of his behavior on himself. Jack was a good kid, and he deserved to have some comfort, and if that meant he explored himself a little bit, then more power to him.

And, well, Kavinsky knew that rough sort of liking someone and being unsure how they felt. At least Poison seemed a relatively safe sort to have a crush on, as far as first queer crashes went. Kavinsky couldn't blame Jack for that, at least.

So, he gave it a week. A week, and then he'd be over this stupid infatuation.

God, he hoped so.

He texted Jack in anticipation of harassing him at his apartment--deliberately not thinking about Chelsea Cloisters, his history with the building, with people who had lived here once, with things he had done here--a simple im coming over and u cant stop me approximately five minutes before he arrived at Jack's door and knocked, sharp and succinct.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Shut up. It's totally something to write home about." He rolls his eyes, and smiles, glad that Kavinsky changes the subject. "Last time I saw her, they'd taken her lighter away, so..." He shrugs. "It's been pretty up and down."

Kavinsky laughed, but his ears were pink. Definitely, decidedly not thinking about Jack's smart ideas. Or Jack filling Poison with his smart ideas. Except that he definitely, decidedly was, and it was rubbing him raw.

"How'd she have a lighter in the first place? I was in the psych ward of juvie for three days, and they confiscated all my shit while I was in there."

"She's been there for so long," he says, pushing one hand back through his hair. "And smoking is, like, her favourite thing in the world. I have literally never seen anyone enjoy anything as much as Jillie enjoys smoking."

Kavinsky was poised to make a quip about Jack's--and, by extension, Jillie's--age, when he realized the supreme irony in that on a couple of fronts, the first being the admission of his crush and the second being that he was only a little bit older than Jack himself. It was like when he called Newt and Al on their ages; they were all in his peer group, even if he was one of the oldest.

"And here you are, mister My Body is a Temple and I Will Paint the Walls?"

Jack huffs a laugh, scratching idly at one tattooed arm. He shrugs.

"We're twins. Doesn't mean we're joined at the hip. I'm pretty in favour of anything that calms her down. She eats meat, too. But I smoke pot sometimes and she hates it."

"I don't know if I've ever met twins," Kavinsky admitted, and shrugged. If he had, they were fraternal, like Jack, and so he'd only ever met the boys. There had certainly been no identicals at Aglionby, that he'd noticed. "So you two just kinda...balance each other out, you figure. Though, man, I can't imagine why she'd be weird about you smoking pots if she smokes cigarettes. Like, c'mon, girlie. Which one of those is processed industrially by the Man?"

Kavinsky shrugged and laughed. Then, he winked. "If you need a weed hook up. I am your man."

"You'd like her. Everyone likes her on a good day." He shrugs. "I guess she doesn't like that it changes me a bit? She finds me harder to read when I'm stoned. I'd stopped touching the stuff when I knew I was going to see her." He leans back, closes his eyes for a moment. "Might take you up on that."

Given that Kavinsky had been collecting girls into his small smattering of friends--remarkably, unbelievably--since he got here, he did not dismiss the idea out of hand. Maybe he would like Jillie. He liked Jack, who reminded him so much of Gansey; he supposed it would be entirely possible to like Jillie as well.

"Whenever you want," Kavinsky said with a nod. Then, almost conspiratorially, he said, "It's legal here."

"I mean, it's quasi-legal in California," says Jack, with a shrug. "Yeah, it's medical but I've got friends who've got recommendations based on utter bullshit. I wouldn't put it past my dad to start randomly drug testing, especially after Jillie ended up in the hospital, so I tend to keep consumption to a minimum. It's...totally unBuddhist of me."

"Quasi-legal still gets your shit arrested if you can't front the system, man," Kavinsky pointed out. But he and Jack, they were the system, in a way, and he knew that. Jack was money and power, and Kavinsky was--well, he was what he was, and that meant dreamt up releases and his father always knowing how and when to protect him and bribery all across the Eastern seaboard.

But Darrow was different. He hoped neither of them had to worry about that shit back home. He supposed, from what he knew, he didn't any more.

"Whatever man. Consider it a road to enlightenment or something. Letting go of earthly connections."

He huffs a laugh and shakes his head.

"This is why I'm a bad Buddhist," he says. "Plus i have a tendency to attach quickly and I'm really fond of vintage leather jackets."

"You're a bad Buddhist because you like weed and people? Man, this is why I don't do religion any more. What's the point of anything that makes you feel bad about doing you? Just...let be."

He'd been better about letting be since he got here, since there wasn't the pressure of being something or someone that he wasn't. Here he was, now. This was it. If people didn't like it, that was just too bad.

"Buddhism isn't a religion. It's a belief system," says Jack, rolling his eyes a little. "And, honestly, I'm just trying to follow the middle path. I just don't always get it right." He shrugs. "But I will absolutely buy weed from you."

"Middle way sounds like it ought to be balanced, ya know? How's giving up earthly possessions and people and whatever balanced. I dunno. I don't get that shit." Kavinsky rubbed his forehead a little bit. "But I've got a fuckin' messed relationship with religion--or belief, or whatever. You do you. If it's working out for you, more power."

"It's supposed to be a struggle," reasons Jack,with a shrug of one shoulder. "If it was always easy, there'd be no point in doing it. It's about...balance. In all things."

"Life's shitty enough without telling yourself you're doing it wrong if you're not...suffering the right ways." Kavinsky couldn't remember a time his life had ever been easy. He was sure there were plenty of people who would argue against that assessment, but they weren't living his life, so they could shove off about it.

He laughed though, shaking his head. "This all took a weird turn. Philosophy was never my forte anyway. Bulgaria's not really known for her philosophers."

O, daĭ mi lyubovta [for Jack]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject