I’m so ridiculously tired right now that I have been trying to write for the past 20 minutes and really kind of can’t. I did add a little bit more to Gray Morning, shown below. 

 

“So, if you hate it so much, why’re you out here?” Savin pressed, turning his head away from Jazz.

Jazz opened his mouth to speak, but clamped it shut again when Savin’s eyes flickered over to him. That dead half-smile split Savin’s face as he wrapped his arms around his legs loosely, cigarette still lit between his fingers. “I know you don’t want to be anywhere near me right now.”

The words carried no emotion except maybe mild curiosity, and even that felt forced. Jazz closed his eyes and bit his lip. His heart still skipped whenever Savin moved too close, threatening to stop entirely whenever their eyes met. As much as he didn’t want Savin near him, he still wanted to keep close to him. Didn’t want Savin to sneak up on him. Didn’t want anymore surprises.

“You obviously didn’t come out here to smoke, so spill it,” Savin spat, glaring at him. “The fuck are you out here for?”

“Why are you doing this?” Jazz said in a rush, returning Savin’s glare. “This isn’t like you, Savin –”

“This is what I’ve always been like,” Savin said, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. He puffed on Jazz’s cigarette, exhaling slowly as he continued to give Jazz a piercing stare. “You’ve just been too fuckling naive to see it before.”

Jazz winced and looked away from Savin, hugging his own knees to his chest. “That’s not fucking true and you know it,” he whispered, biting his lip. “The Savin I know wouldn’t have ever — wouldn’t have ever –” He couldn’t say it. He couldn’t, not as he still felt Savin’s hands on his shoulders, around his neck.

“The Savin you thought you knew doesn’t exist,” Savin muttered, pushing himself off the ground. He dusted himself off before extinguishing his cigarette quickly and tossing it aside. He shoved his hands in his pockets and squared his jaw. “Mari’s right, you know. You should leave.”

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