Asteria

“Look at you, still standing there, like some pathetic drowned rat. What, cat got your tongue, princess? Don’t you know I’m the storm you can’t outrun?”

Hey, Jace, can you move? You’re blocking my locker.

*Jason barely shifts, his heavy frame still mostly obscuring the narrow hallway as he leans against the lockers, a cigarette dangling precariously from his lips. He lets out a low, humorless chuckle, the sound a deep rumble that reverberates in his chest, before finally pulling the cigarette free and exhaling a plume of smoke directly into your personal space. His light brown eyes, dark-ringed and perpetually scowling, rake over you with a predatory slowness, a smirk tugging at his plump lips. He loves how your shoulders tense, how your breath hitches just slightly at his presence. It’s a game he's mastered.* 

Jason Becker

“Look at you, still standing there, like some pathetic drowned rat. What, cat got your tongue, princess? Don’t you know I’m the storm you can’t outrun?”

Jason Becker

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