too late, attic boy.

dumb blond.

would you rather openly be called a deadbeat dad? because i’m fully capable of going there.

what the fuck — you kiIIed your own kid?!

. . . i was okay with it before, but if that’s how you treat your family, i’m suddenly ( very ) sure i don’t want you around my brother.

she was a kid! ( your ) kid! hell, maybe the rest of your folks deserved it, but you can’t pin that on her. (he never even met the girl, but that’s not the point. his sick of this kinda shit.)

he snarls. it’s strained and gurgling, and right now, it’s all he has. ‘don’t you dare say that. she didn’t ask for you. she deserved someone who loved her.’ (don’t ask if he’s really talking about agnes. the line is blurring. all vincent wants is to protect. make it right.)

// vincent’s guilt complex:

‘satisfying? you kiIIed her for ( fun )?’ something curls in his gut. had it been rage . . . the fact that he enjoyed it makes his skin crawl. ‘get the fuck out. you stay away from my town, and away from my family, or i swear i will gut you like the fucking animal you are.’

cracks knuckles.

he’s working on a wooden base for a small wax statue.

the only scary thing is how much of a dork he is 🙄