It’s easy to draw things out when they’re in public, or around other people. It’s even fun. Sometimes things go for hours, depending on where they are. A party. A meeting. Whatever it may be. Cat and mouse in a way.

It’s harder to want to draw them out when they’re alone.

There’s a calm and then there’s a storm.

Calm is fine while Bishop watches him. He looks beautiful like that. Glossy eyed and fighting with himself. It’s the blades that start to stir up something closer to a storm when they’re opened up and moved so closely to such vulnerable area’s—

—and then they’re willingly offered to him to finish?

Stupidity at it’s finest…and so trusting that Bishop almost groans. Why were they like this? Why was it always like this? Why did he have to— Did Jasper do this on purpose?

“Oh, I hate you,” he breathes, grabbing the handle away from him. It gets pushed onto his desk (safe) so he can reach down and get this moron off of his knee’s and up into his lap, “You don’t just give someone a weapon like that when you’re that vulnerable,” stupid. So is this stupid shirt. Or it was while it existed. It’s torn the rest of the way and yanked off of Jaspers shoulders to die on the floor.