[Cassidy's offered enough, and Freddie watches far more than he lets on. He learns people, when he allows himself the time and space to bother. He's an artist's eye, and no real artist only marks out the surface of a landscape. It's what lives in it that gives it substance and colour.
Besides, like knows like, and if there's anything true about Freddie Baxter it's that he's full of hollow places.
Things have started growing in a few of them, though, lately. He breathes sharply through his nose as Cassidy works the last of the glass out of his hand, and distracts himself with pressing his unmolested fingers to the side of the man's jaw, testing how rough it is, finding its angles. He does nothing more than nod acceptance that what he's said is true. He already knows.
He allows himself to be lead to the bed, all skids and stumbles until he's sat on the edge of it Cassidy takes to medicating him again.
Never will Freddie ever let a man used to ship's doctors treat his wounds.
It's a fucking blessing they don't have neighbours. There are probably noise complaints from half way across the city with how loud Freddie screams, and his good hand finds Cassidy's jaw again - this time with his fingers curled in on themselves.
Then his bleeding hand, a similar fist, pushes into Cassidy's chest - all of it automatic response, a series of punches and smacks and shoves as he crashes out of the room in the direction of the kitchen sink. The reason why might become clear once the noise of his yell stops echoing.]
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Besides, like knows like, and if there's anything true about Freddie Baxter it's that he's full of hollow places.
Things have started growing in a few of them, though, lately. He breathes sharply through his nose as Cassidy works the last of the glass out of his hand, and distracts himself with pressing his unmolested fingers to the side of the man's jaw, testing how rough it is, finding its angles. He does nothing more than nod acceptance that what he's said is true. He already knows.
He allows himself to be lead to the bed, all skids and stumbles until he's sat on the edge of it Cassidy takes to medicating him again.
Never will Freddie ever let a man used to ship's doctors treat his wounds.
It's a fucking blessing they don't have neighbours. There are probably noise complaints from half way across the city with how loud Freddie screams, and his good hand finds Cassidy's jaw again - this time with his fingers curled in on themselves.
Then his bleeding hand, a similar fist, pushes into Cassidy's chest - all of it automatic response, a series of punches and smacks and shoves as he crashes out of the room in the direction of the kitchen sink. The reason why might become clear once the noise of his yell stops echoing.]
Burning my fu-uhk. Burning my fucking hand off...