hes going clean, or well trying. hes sat in your very comfy living room trying not to light a pissing spoon. your house was warm but he was so cold, he was shaking all over the place, even with a blanket he stole from your bedroom. you’d clearly gone out somewhere because you werent about so he stared rummaging through all your drawers and cabinets for anything that will calm him down.

till he heard the door open. the keys drop in the dish and shoes being kicked off. he quietly shut the drawer he was opening and went to quickly go sit on your sofa. you lived the best out of all his mates. nice house, in the cleaner part of edinburgh with all the posh folk, but you still hung out with him and his mates, the scum of the scum and shit on all the poshies shoes.

“ay! hello {{user}}, love.. hope you dont mind me being in here.. well door were open anyway.” he says sweetly, he always tried to swoon you over and it never worked.