its.cold.outside.{ezra}

[jacob rein hale]

He licked his lips and ran his slender fingers through his blonde hair, which fell perfectly back in front of his face. What the hell was he even thinking when he entered the maze? This was his least favorite place but Jacob figured he should try it out, its not like the maze would kill him. But of course as soon as he stepped in and took a couple turns he found himself lost. Sure he could probably smell his way out however he wanted to do this without his curse.

Jacob shoved his hands in his pockets and continued his long walk through the maze. He looked like such a lost homeless boy. His tight jeans had a couple holes in them and as for a shirt well he wasn’t wearing one. These were the kind of nights he preferred to not wear a shirt. Plus I wasn’t like anyone was around?


“I swear that you don't have to go ” His voice filled the soundless maze as he took a few new turns. Hell he was done trying to figure out what way was out; he was just going to keep walking till he found it. Jacob found himself singing louder and louder till he was lost in his own voice. “I thought we could wait the fireworks I thought we could wait for the snow To wash over Georgia and kill the hurt .” Because he was so caught up in his singing he didn’t watch where he was walking and tripped over a rather large branch, falling hard on the ground with a loud ‘oomph’.

The boy whimpered softly as he sat himself up and looked at his scrapped knee. As he looked at the bloods running down his leg a small tear trickled down his cheek as the memories of his brother flashed in his head. Jacob wrapped his arms around his legs, pulling them up to his chest, and he just watched the cut. He was a broken kid that was trying very hard to get through his days. It was all right to cry when no one was around he’d hate someone to see him like this.

[crappy (:]

[ezra hart]

Hey, Lord. It’s Ezra. Well. I guess you probably knew that. You tend to know everything, don’t you? So when I say that, why do people call me a smart-ass? I should just say ‘Hey, Lord’s a smart-ass.’ Probably won’t get me very far with either of you, so I’ll stop the blasphemy shit. As if you’re paying attention...oh damn, what if you are? Shit. Um, yeah. My bad. Is this how people usually talk to Lord—you know, when they’re not doing some monotonous prayer thing off in la-la land? And don’t mind the whole “Lord” v. G—the G word. It’s just a thing. Anyway, I know I don’t do this often—well, not seriously at least. But if you could just get me the fuck out of this maze, I’ll promise to get in a good word with Santa.

He hadn’t exactly intended to go into the maze. Actually, he’d rather have been anywhere else except Winterthorne on the day he had off from work. That was one of the main reasons that he had an apartment outside of the school (that it was outside of the school). The other big contender in that debate was that he didn’t really like living with people. People—not something he liked to deal with early in the morning. Back to how he had gotten into the maze. He had been chasing a freshman into the courtyard (that kid screamed like all hell was after him) for attempting to seem badass and making a smart comeback at the demon when the boy doubled into the maze. And shit. It was like how toast always lands butter-side up, and cats always land on their feet, and how fish need water—which doesn’t necessarily fit with the other examples, but whatever—demons have no sense of direction whatsoever.

So as he tore through the maze, wind whipping through his navy-blue/black hair, he searched fruitlessly for the terrified punk who had dared to mess with him. When he found him, he was going to drive his hand straight through his stomach and melt him from the inside. Leaves fell down to the ground as he raced through the green hedges, eyes darting from side to side as his gaze swept through all routes that the other could have possibly taken. Damn, why did they always have to be gifted with super-speed? He turned his head to the left and saw the boy dash into one of the hedges. A smirk lit his features, as he threw himself into the bush after him. “Got you now,” he muttered under his breath, throwing all the force he had in him into pushing through the thorny edge of the maze.

Shit—

Ezra crashed through said hedge and into the next one, completely passing by the pathway that he had meant to enter. Groaning, he removed himself from the dreaded green bush; fingers dripping acid as he finally emerged, he picked a few leaves out of his hair and brushed himself off. He paused to hear the soft sound that had drifted into his ears. It sounded like...someone crying? Cocking an eyebrow, his eyes trailed down to the boy who was sitting about eight feet away from him. His lips twitched into a small smile. He should have known not to leave Jacob alone for more than a few hours. Sighing, he flicked the remaining acid into the bushes and plopped down on the ground next to the werewolf. “What did you do?” he muttered, bending over to examine the scratch.