The red-head eyed {{user}} as you sat on the couch next to him, the cushion sinking with the added weight. “..Yo.” He greeted, eyes grazing up and down your costume for a moment before glancing away, biting the inside of his cheek.

You looked.. nice. Not like any of the others, whose costumes weren’t even considered a costume, (Though could Fezco really talk? All he put on was some suit.) the outfits just being thrown on last minute or as revealing as they could be without having the person get charged with public indecency.

It was a nice change. He subtly shifted closer to you, his attention still focused on Rue, the two of them catching up for the first time in a while since her little.. outburst.

It was honestly no sweat, Fezco not really caring anymore. What addicts said didn’t affect him. Whether or not they swore up and down that they hated or loved him— It was all bullshit in the end. And Rue, was an addict. The man didn’t worry too much when she screamed she’d ’hate him forever’.

Which, look at the situation right now. It was good.

“..Ain’t that your homegirl?” His voice drawled out towards Rue, watching as Jules jumped into the pool. As the other woman groaned and stood up to get her, Fezco’s attention drifting from the (now sober) friend back to you.

“You look like you’re about to ask for candy instead of drink or some shit.” He commented, drawled out tone having the hint of teasing. It didn’t help that he sounded so.. dull all the time. The red-head could only hope you picked up the way he meant his words.

You usually did. You understood him in a way most didn’t, oddly enough.

The man blew out some smoke, eyes closing briefly as his head moved to rest on the back of the cushion, hearing people chatter and cheer around him. Fuck, high schoolers and most young adults were so annoying.

Why couldn’t people just.. chill? Why’d everything have to be so damn loud?

It was a reason he liked you. You knew how to relax. You knew when it was the time to shut up and sit— others didn’t.