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rhythmicmeow · 10 months

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TIMING: Current LOCATION: Near The Bloody Stake PARTIES: Owen @apaininyourneck & Leticia @rhythmicmeow SUMMARY: Leticia drops into a vampire bar, and Owen catches her on the way out. CONTENT WARNING: None!

Leticia had only spent about thirty minutes inside the bar. Barely enough time to get settled and order a drink, but there had been something in inherently off since she entered the building. The vibe was more Halloween than what she had anticipated, which would have been fine if she had been one of those Halloween all year kind of girls, but that had never been her scene. Blame it on dressing up daily for concerts, the idea of getting dressed up lost its flavor. The bar and the short conversations she had within had become just as stale in record time.

Leaving, despite being the only option, had left Leticia annoyed that her plans had fallen through. Instead of admitting the loss of the night, she reached for her phone and started scrolling through the popular locations around town, hoping something new and interesting would jump off the screen at her. With her head down, she made her way down the street and followed the natural path toward downtown. Worst case scenario, she’d just end up back home.

An uncomfortable feeling crawled up her spin and quickly ending up back home became the best case scenario. Leticia glanced over her shoulder and saw someone was there, but in the shadows she couldn’t make out a face. Just a form, and in the back of her mind, a whisper told her it was just a trick of the light. But paranoia wouldn’t let it rest and Leticia picked up the pace, taking a nearby alley to cut through a less direct path home, not wanting to lead them straight to her doorstep.

On some nights, there was always an annoyingly steady stream of people leaving these damn monster hang outs which could make it hard to gauge who belonged, who’d accidentally stumbled in and who was there on purpose in an attempt to live out some gothic, Twilight-esque fantasy. Either way, Owen had been hanging out around on the other side of the street from the teeming entrance for way too long, burning through a fair amount of cigarettes. It was time to move, pushing away from the wall as he trailed some distance behind a scattered group of four people, following the lingering feeling of discomfort.

After a moment, two of the people had disbanded from the small gathering of solo people, each ducking into a different place in the hopes for something The Bloody Stake clearly hadn’t provided. Luckily, Owen still felt the itch to follow and so he did. What finally seemed to make this evening worth it was getting a quick glance over the shoulder from one of the two people walking in front of him, followed by a quickened pace and a turn into an alley. The one furthest in the front seemed none the wiser, keeping a casual pace without a care in the world. Owen turned into the alley. A few steps in, the crawling in his skin began to fade, even as the distance between himself and the nervous woman decreased. Shit. Wrong choice.

As he considered his options which were currently give up on this whole fucking night because why fucking bother, go back to that shit excuse for a bar or attempt to catch up with the person he now strongly suspected he should have followed, his foot caught on an empty bottle on the ground. It cluttered over the ground with unbelievable noise, clearly just waiting for its moment to shine, and the woman in front of him stopped. Interesting. “You always stop at the sound of someone following you down an alley?” Might as well see how much guts this non-vampire lady had since this night had been a complete bore so far, anyway.

For all the mental gymnastics she had gone through before turning into the alley to convince herself that the man in the shadows was entirely imagined, her paranoia kept whispering to her: what if? And as the bottle clattered across the ground behind her, Leticia kicked herself mentally for doubting her instincts. Her pulse was racing, making running a non-option. Raising her heartbeat any further would likely push her over an edge that she doubted anyone around her was equipped to deal with. She dug her fingers into her palms and stopped where she stood, pivoting only when he finally spoke.

Leticia pulled a face, mostly confused but mixed with a new found irritation. Was he really acting like she was the problem in this situation? “Do you always follow lone women down dark alleys?” She asked, waving her hand around the otherwise empty alley. “I mean, really. Me comforting the asshole isn’t as weird as being the asshole that needs confronting.” The words sat for a moment before she looked him over, hoping for a hint as to who he was or what he was doing there, so boldly talking like she was the inconvenience. But this was Wicked’s Rest, and a shallow surface glance wasn’t enough to gleam anything concrete. This place had the usual dangers, but a concentration of a thousand more, and Leticia was quietly hoping that this was just a human problem.

The more she pressed, the more in control she felt. Of not only this situation, but of the overwhelming feeling that was building in her chest, threatening to become something else entirely. So, she pressed further. Standing tall and looking directly at him. Wanting him to know, whatever his game was, she wasn’t going to run scared. “Well?” Leticia demanded, crossing her arms. “Can I help you?”

Oh yeah, she definitely had guts. An attitude, too. With every word, she seemed to grow more confident and the smirk on Owen’s face widened as well. The slayer found himself wondering how lucky she was that it was just a bored hunter that had accidentally stalked her in here and not something far more nefarious from that shithole she’d just left. A plucky attitude wouldn’t do you much good when you were being sucked dry by a monster. He waited a moment before finally answering, taking the time to dig out some cigarettes and leisurely light one. “To answer your first question, no. Not always. Has happened from time to time though.”

He took a drag, half amused by the distance still between them, their words carrying in the slim opening between two walls. A strange conversation taking place in a little pocket hidden away from the bustle of the main street they’d just left. “The second question…” Owen seemed to ponder it for a moment, blowing out smoke and dragging out the moment. “Nah. Not really. Case of mistaken identity. Although,” he added as an afterthought, taking a few steps closer before leaning against the wall. Still far enough to not be perceived as a threat. Not yet at least. “I am curious what you were doing in that monster bar.” God, he hoped she wasn’t one of those fang bangers. She was way too pretty and impressive to stoop so low.

“Oh, perfect. A time to time offender.” If the statement was supposed to provide some kind of comfort, it hadn’t. Leticia was watching him carefully, arms crossed and eyes set on him. Getting agitated ever so slightly over the smirk on his face. Working her jaw, she had been about to dismiss him when he spoke again. On the surface, it was nothing. Just a man being a creep in an alley and then the word monster dropped and her stomach twisted. Her eyes drifted in the direction she had come from.

People had complicated relationships with their supernatural origins. Leticia had never experienced it personally, but she had heard Nora call herself a monster in such a matter of fact way that it had broken her heart. But the way this man said it? It felt less like a self reflection and more of an accusation. “Monster.” The word fell from her lips, sounding foreign and feeling strange. Her gaze snapped back towards the man, the practice smile sliding onto her face too easily. If the strange feeling in her gut was right, this wasn’t any ordinary human that knew about vampires. He was far more dangerous. “Not much.” That much was the truth, but she flipped her hair over her shoulder, purposefully exposing her neck. “Why? Want to know the deals on drinks?” She asked, her voice light, feigning innocence that she didn’t bother trying to make convincing. “If you bring a drink for the host they give you half off food. Might be more your scene.”

“Technically, no offence has been committed yet,” Owen retorted quickly, well aware that his choice of words could technically be perceived as a threat. It wasn’t really a habit to worry presumably human women on any given day of the week but not every non-undead woman frequented bars catering blood and brains alongside the booze. So he was gauging her reaction, watching for a sign that she had any idea of what he really was, seeing if there would be that brief glimmer of fear when it dawned on a creature that it was staring down a hunter.

Her reaction didn’t portray fear, per say, but it did little to ease her discomfort. Even so, it seemed she had started to play some game of chicken on her own. Owen watched her smile through the smoke drifting from the cigarette, head cocking at her answer. Proving that she had at least some knowledge of the scene she had just left, the woman flipped her hair to reveal the slender expanse of her neck. Unmarked by fangs, it seemed, not that it ruled out a feeding completely. “I don’t think the host would be interested in a drink from me,” Owen chuckled, the sound low. He definitely enjoyed the occasional attempts made to bite him as it always ended in disaster for the vampire.

“Well, whether or not you were offering drinks, I’ve lost the person I’m interested in, anyway. Or was interested in.” Owen winked, well aware that it was an awful line, taking a final drag from his cigarette before stubbing it out. “So you seem like you can handle yourself well enough, cutting through dark alleys by yourself and sassing strangers. What’s your preferred method? We using like… pepper spray? Maybe the old car keys between the knuckles trick? A gun?” There was really no point to the questioning other than boredom and the fact that this night was useless anyway so might as well spend it having a little chat.

"Technically is a bad way of defending yourself against a crime. Just because something technically isn’t illegal, doesn’t make it right. Or good. Or not annoying. And this happens to fit the bill for all of those things.” Leticia shot back. He was right though, just as she had been about the monster bar just down the street. The more he spoke the more uneasy she became, as if she was being let in on a secret that she had no desire to know about. As much as she wanted to close her eyes and pretend that this was just some weirdo with a vampire obsession, the way he laid it out made it impossible for her to pretend. He was a hunter.

But he was looking for vampires — maybe he wouldn’t be interested in her at all. As selfish as it sounded. Emilio had been a slayer and he hadn’t had a clue about her, but Emilio was also… different. There was no denying that he was different from other hunters. Leticia couldn’t bet on him to be the norm, especially in Wicked’s Rest. So, she pursed her lips and pretended she hadn’t put the details together, hoping the man wouldn’t see past the mask. “They’re boring like that,” she said offhandedly. “The spice is where all the flavor is.”

Leticia managed a laugh before rolling her eyes. This guy was strange, but it seemed like he was just bored now. Which was good. “Who in their right mind would tell a stranger what their secret weapon is?” She asked, taking another step toward him. More as a show that she wasn’t scared of him. Even if she still was. Worrying at her lip briefly, she figured why not push a little harder. Might as well irritate him right back for interrupting her night. (Boring as it was.) “What kind of slayer fucks up so badly they follow the wrong person? Your spidey sense broken?”

Perfectly conveying how little he cared about the woman’s words, Owen shrugged, smiling lazily. The fact that she still hadn’t left was interesting. It didn’t seem likely that she was afraid, staying here to make sure he wouldn’t follow her, so odds pointed to her being just as bored and curious as he was. The previous smile widened at her comment, turning smug and a bit proud. “And I’m getting the feeling you’re not boring.”

Now that she was the one closing the distance between them, Owen followed her lead, closing the distance until they were a mere arms length away from each other. She looked even nicer up close, especially with that fire burning in her eyes, a challenge. The slayer had never been known for hating a challenge. “Worth a shot,” he replied innocently, cocking his head as he finished very obviously raking his gaze over her. And then she managed to surprise him further, admitting to how much she really knew. Owen didn’t visibly react to her statement, obviously, much too practiced in concealing his emotions.

Grinning, he resisted the urge to reach towards her, maybe tuck back a stray lock of hair, as good as convinced that she wouldn’t take it lightly. At least not yet. “I would say that your looks distracted me but that would be a bit too corny,” he sighed, eyes sparkling with glee. “But no one’s spidey sense is perfectly accurate, which you would know if you were one of us so…” Obviously not undead, possibly just a regular human, possibly not. All in all, Owen didn’t much care. “Which brand of Wicked’s Rest oddities are you? No worries, I don’t discriminate as long as you have a heartbeat.” Most of the time, at least. Well… if he was fond of the non-human being.

Leticia returned the shrug, but didn’t back down. “A lazy observation, but yeah.” She doubted anyone in Wicked’s Rest was truly boring. Especially considering how many strange people she had met since she had come into town and how quickly that number was climbing. This guy included. She would have been more shocked if he had found someone who wasn’t worth a conversation. Though she was mildly curious about what his definition of boring was.

Whatever game of chicken they were playing, Leticia wasn’t entirely sure who was winning. She didn’t feel threatened anymore, but she was nowhere close to dropping her guard. Especially around a hunter, and a man she had just met. He looked her over and almost immediately, she leaned in, arching a brow. “Now look at who's boring.” But at least he wasn’t pretending to be anyone he wasn’t. That was refreshing, in a sense. But still, there was something uncomfortable about how he didn’t react to her blatant comments about what he was. Maybe he was hiding his reaction, maybe he really didn’t give a shit. Leticia tried to sweep it under the rug and pretend it didn’t make her wonder.

“Ah, well, if that’s what distracted you, you’re looking at the wrong end, aren’t you?” Leticia huffed a laugh, looking away from him only long enough to realize where she had screwed up. There was no easy way to wiggle out of this one, but she looked back at him, and tried anyway. “And you still followed me? Sounds like yours might be a little broken.” Crossing her arms, Leticia tipped her head to the side, blinking at him with a practiced smile on her face. “Heartbeat is still there, otherwise, it’s none of your fucking business. Sort of ruins the mystery, don’t you think?”

Even though a lot of her reactions seemed practiced, more plastered on with a dash of confidence rather than genuine, Owen could catch genuine glimpses of the woman in front of him every now and then. The tension from before seemed to be giving way - whether she was human or not, she clearly thought herself capable of fending for herself. Some apprehension was to be expected when dealing with a stranger in a dark alley but he still had an inkling the whole ‘slayer’ thing was bothering her the most. Maybe she had an undead friend somewhere or just a general distaste for hunters as a whole. Either way, Owen didn’t much care right now. There wouldn’t be any hunting tonight so his mind was already moving on to greener pastures for this evening.

“Maybe my inner compass had other priorities,” he replied vaguely, grinning at her crossed arms and stiff smile. Hands raised in mock surrender at her response to being pestered about her… genetics. God, he really wanted to put that attitude to the test. “Again, worth a shot.”

His hand reached out, rather slowly to not provoke her fight or flight response more than he already had. Whether or not she would accept it was a lovely mystery. “I’m Owen. Let me guess, your name is none of my fucking business either?” The teasing tone was accompanied by eyes crinkled with amusement and honestly, he didn’t care whether or not he got her name. The answer to the next question was the important one. “Since you don’t really look like you had much fun at the blood bar, how does some company for a regular bar sound? I can sort of promise that I won’t bite.”

He was a strange one, she’d give him that. The immediate danger seemed to be gone, but she still didn’t feel wholly comfortable with him looking at her. Leticia had found herself surrounded by one too many hunters in the recent weeks and that number seemed to be insistent on increasing no matter what she did. But he had at least dropped the question of her genetics. It wasn’t a huge win, but it was still something, and Leticia would happily take it. It seemed his focus was on vampires, and if that was all he cared about, who was she to question it?

“I’m sure it was your inner compass. Also, don’t call it your inner compass, it sounds weird.” But that was neither here nor there. Inhaling, Leticia rolled her eyes. The most unfortunate part of this entire conversation was that this wasn’t even the worst she had heard. New York bars had brought their worst and their finest out, and this, as terrible as it was, wasn’t rock bottom. “Was it? Really?”

Owen. A name to the face then. She brought her hand up just as his got close and pushed it away gently. “Wrong again, Owen. That’s kind of a mouthful for a name, don’t you think?” But Leticia didn’t give it up. Not yet, at least. While she felt comfortable enough to believe that he wasn’t going to drop her identity to other hunters for shits and giggles, she wasn’t sure. “Depends,” she finally replied. “Are you buying?” Hopefully he wasn't like other slayers she knew, otherwise this friendly conversation was going to end up with her calling her accountant at night asking how much she could afford to pay off a bar to forget their debt. “And if you bite me, I’m biting back. Had enough threats of that tonight.”

Owen sighed playfully at her chastising. “Fine. I followed the wrong person but I’m staying because you’re interesting and hot. Happy?” Might as well throw the rest of the cards on the table since she had figured out the slayer bit all by herself. If she didn’t appreciate honesty, there were definitely other people to pursue tonight. Even if he wouldn’t mind spending some more time with the woman currently pushing his hand away.

“What kind of gentleman would I be if I wasn’t?” Owen replied, taking a step closer before sidestepping her completely and heading towards the street bustling with people. Her question taken as an agreement for drinks. It was tempting to offer her the completely free drinks back at his apartment but given that she didn’t even trust him with her name yet, it was a long shot. “I’ll hold you to that,” he called over his shoulder, smile audible in his voice, walking slowly to make sure she would catch up. “Come along then, skatt.”

—

“Better, yeah.” Leticia looked almost satisfied, as if she had won something here. Being followed into an alley had been off putting to say the least, but when it came down to the reasons? She understood. Not that she trusted everything he said about not caring as long as she had a heartbeat. Which brought forward questions about what other creatures out there lacked heartbeats—but she wasn’t sure if he was the one to pose those questions too. He seemed to have a singular thought on his mind.

“You really want an answer to that?” She asked, watching as he moved closer, and then around her entirely. Leticia arched a brow but followed suit a moment after. The drinks might not have been an apology for following her and mistaking her for a vampire, which stirred the balam in her mind, as if offended it had been mistaken for anything but itself, but the offer was still enticing. And Owen promised at least an interesting night. She took one last glance in the direction of the vampire bar, and decided he’d make a good distraction, too. “Pendejo, what did you just call me?” She fell into step with Owen easily, not looking nearly as irritated as she should have been. Only mildly distant, wondering how her ever growing list of people she knew turned into such a shitshow of hunters.

—

“Only if it’s brutally honest.” Sure enough, it seemed the woman’s curiosity matched his own as he heard her footsteps get closer. Followed by a very suspicious question and a nickname Owen was growing all too familiar with due to his proximity with another slayer. An innocent smile on his face, he shrugged. “It’s a pet name. Swedish. Since I have nothing else to call you,” he explained, the tone of his voice suggesting that there was every chance of that being complete bullshit. It wasn’t, but letting her think that he’d insulted her was fun.

Eager to start the evening before the spitfire following him decided to change her mind, Owen stopped at the first bar they passed, holding the door open. “After you.”

It wasn’t too crowded inside, the night still young and thankfully, this place seemed void of any blood suckers. With a sigh of content, Owen led his companion inside, hand hovering over the small of her back. Not crossing the boundary yet, slowly testing his luck, practicing what little patience he had to not piss her off before they even ordered their first drink.

—

The way he said it brought a frown to her face. A pet name but the tone suggested that he was just fucking around with her. Most of the night had been that, so it wasn’t much of a surprise. Just a new irritant for her to fuss over. Which was probably Owen’s intention considering how he carried himself. So, after a moment of huffing, Leticia lifted her head and pretended like nothing had bothered her in the first place. As if that would suck out any satisfaction he might have gotten.

They ducked into the nearest bar and Leticia should have recognized it. Most of them were bars that Emilio had in rotation so that they didn’t piss anyone off too many nights in a row. (Though she figured it was a habit from when he simply didn’t pay his bill.) The bartender clocked her the second they stepped inside. She shot him a pointed look and he immediately looked down at the counter, but the smirk on his face? He was gonna tell Emilio, wasn’t he? Bastard.

“Christ,” she sighed, allowing herself to be guided for a moment before taking Owen’s hand and leading him to a table further from the bar. Not wanting to give the bartender any more gossip than she had already. Leticia sighed as she took a seat and then propped her chin up on her fist, looking more directly at Owen now. “I fucking hate small towns.” But despite her initial irritation, she laughed.

—

The quiet exchange lasted briefly but Owen didn’t miss it, with his focus so intently on his companion, trying to figure her out. Before he could ask about it or, more importantly, make a quip, he was being dragged away from the bar. Smirk planted firmly in place, even as his hand was released and they took a seat, Owen cocked his head. “Old fling? Guess I’m in luck if you have a thing for bartenders,” he joked, glancing over his shoulder. Sure enough, a pair of curious eyes met his gaze and immediately looked away, bartender pretending to busy himself with other customers.

“So,” Owen sighed, fingers interlocking on top of the table, “do I finally get a name or am I going to have to go pry it from our curious friend over there instead?” A grin, more of a challenge than anything else, before he added, “even though I don’t mind keeping your current nickname which may or may not be an insult.” God, he hoped she ended up googling it and realizing she was getting worked up over nothing.

—

Dropping her face into her hands, Leticia sighed once more. But after a moment, she recovered and looked at Owen again. "My type in men is mistakes, so you do fit right in." Did she consider what she had said before saying it? No. But this entire night was a disaster as it was, there was no possible way she could dig this hole any deeper. Trying to refocus the conversation away from her personal encounters, she tried to pry into his life. "You're a bartender? Your spideysense fuck up that often you need a side hustle?"

Leticia puffed out her cheeks at the threat and rolled her eyes. "Not really fair that you're going to use outside resources here. Who the hell am I supposed to grill about you? Feels pretty uneven here." After a beat though, she finally caved. "It's Leticia. And don't tell him anything, that man is a rat and a gossip."

—

“Excellent,” Owen replied, drawing out the single word in a very irritating manner, accompanied of course with a smirk. Leaning back in his seat, enjoying the way his new friend seemed to be letting her guard down ever so slightly, he glanced back at the bar. They hadn’t even gotten the chance to order yet. Before he could tell her as much, she was back with more insults disguised as questions. “Two jobs, actually. It’s expensive to always be buying people drinks.” If she thought he was bad at vampire hunting, that was fine by him. She wasn’t the one that needed to be threatened by him.

With a self satisfied shrug, Owen leaned in closer, daring her to force his hand. “I never play fair,” he stated, head tilting expectantly until she finally gave in. His smile was wide, in no way attempting to hide the satisfaction he’d gotten from that simple win. “Leticia,” he tried out, watching her for a moment before unexpectedly getting to his feet. “Watch our table, will’ya?”

The bartender was doing a fair enough job at pretending to keep his chill once Owen neared the bar, only once glancing over the slayer’s shoulder, presumably meeting the gaze of a very angry Leticia. “Hi there. Whiskey and one of what she usually gets.” The whole time, he kept from looking back at his companion, not giving her a chance to even wordlessly threaten him lest he ‘talk to the rat.’ The drinks were delivered and Owen leaned on the bar, sizing up the man. “Owen,” he finally said, offering a hand and, once the handshake was accepted, he added, “heard you’re a big gossip.” With a quiet ‘tsk’, he grabbed the drinks and returned to the table, sliding one over to Leticia.

—

Leticia rolled her eyes this time around. “I hope you’re not looking for me to feel bad for you. I’m sure you manage just fine.” And frankly, it was a step up from the people she usually drank with. Half the time she ended up with the tab, and while she could afford it, she was always a few shades of annoyed that it was becoming an expectation. But for Owen? Even if he wasn’t about to put a blade in her chest (yet, she presumed) that didn’t mean she was going to be rooting for him to be living lavishly while he did his job.

The grin on her face made her wish she hadn’t said anything at all, but knowing their bartender and Owen’s personality - he would have had it one way or another. Which was some bullshit if you asked her. Leticia leaned in, only slightly, to shake her head. “Stop looking at me like that. Stop acting like you won something.” Drumming her fingers on the table as he walked away, she sighed again, feeling at least more at home here than she had outside. This was familiar. Safe. Even if Owen posed some risks himself.

Including whatever the hell he was saying to the bartender while he was ordering their drinks. Christ. “What did you tell him?” She asked before reaching for her drink. “You better not be ruining my favorite bar.” It wasn’t her favorite. Or her only. But he didn’t need to know that.

—

Of course, Owen was immediately berated with questions as he sat back down, Leticia demanding answers. “Nothing important,” he sighed, smirk still visible behind the rim of the glass as he took a sip. Wondering how long it would take her curiosity to drive her mad. If she’d come back another night to ask the nosy bartender about the very brief exchange of words. Or if she’d perhaps stop coming here at all. Nah, she seemed much too stubborn and proud for the latter.

“So,” he put a hand on his chest, “bartender, slayer, mistake.” Gesturing over to her, his eyebrows raised expectantly. “I don’t want to have to play unfair to get more than a name out of you but since I’m not opposed to breaking the rules… your choice.” An obnoxious grin on his face, Owen leaned back in his seat, drink in hand, waiting patiently.

—

Her eyes were locked on the bartender, wanting nothing more than to walk over there and demand him to give up what he had been told - and swear him into secrecy. But that would be forfeiting this strange game they were playing, wouldn’t it? Either way, Owen was walking away with far more information that Leticia had intended. She needed to stop talking before she fumbled her way into another round of trouble.

Mistake did manage to get a smile out of her, but it only lasted a moment before she schooled her face and shrugged. “A man of many trades.” Leticia would have made the joke that he was a jack of all trades, master of none, but considering he had followed the wrong woman, he might take it personally. Her choice. Leticia was quiet, enjoying her drink and letting his question sit before she set her glass down. What was the move? Pretend her phone was ringing? Make up another pitiful excuse? Or just… outright say it? “Leticia,” she began with a hand on her chest, mimicking his posture. “Business owner, and uninterested in making another mistake tonight. Sorry to disappoint.” But thanks for the free drink?

—

It had been worth a shot. It was always worth a shot, even when the outcome wasn’t the most preferable one. Getting to know people in town tended to come in handy one way or another, regardless of how intimately Owen got to know them. And the woman he had followed into a dark alley really had been a long shot. At least for tonight. He gave a nonchalant shrug before finishing the rest of his drink. “Guess I’ll have to find you again when your standards are a little less rigid.”

Digging into his pocket, he pulled out a twenty dollar bill and placed it on the table. “The rest can go towards tips for my new friend over there.” Glancing over his shoulder, Owen winked at the curious bartender before getting to his feet. “Or you can get yourself another drink.” He grinned then, with a slightly more serious expression, added, “just for the love of fuck, stay away from the necrophiliac bar.”

#wickedswriting #char: owen #owen: wrong bar wrong time #// the fact my psd put hearts in his eyes is KILLING ME #// little blob hearts

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