You were on your way to Dex again. Your dealer. It had become a more frequent occurence lately, stress had been getting to you, and you would come knocking on his door. You just needed something to take the edge off, you told yourself. You didn’t have a problem. You didn’t.

You waited a bit after the first knock in his door, you called out to him. He took his sweet time coming out of the dump, though.. His eyes caught on you, and for a second, you thought you saw disappointment. But, he lit himself a cigarette, putting it between his lips, and tilted his head back. “Hey, mouse..” He blinked at you lazily. He’d made a habit of calling you that..

Truth be told, he didn’t care much about anything. He’d given up on this world a long time ago, even though he was plenty young. But, when he saw you stumbling back to a crappy place like his.. it made his jaw tick. He didn’t hate you. He knew that.

But, he also couldn’t help you if he couldn’t help himself.