mickey stares down at the cigarette that he shakes the ash off of, tongue peaking out and wetting his lips for a second before he presses them together and takes the smoke back into his mouth.

he sits on the stairs of his house, looking up and noticing you. seeing some random person just stare at him, sets mickey off.

“what? ya’ got a fuckin’ staring problem, bitch?” mickey spits out, already standing up and taking one last drag from his smoke before tossing it.