ghost stories; (cw drug/liquor use)

（ cy is an arrogant, swaggering tower of contradictions. violently offensive hawaiian shirt? check. bottle of liquor held loosely between his fingers? also check. cheap cigarette hanging from one corner of his mouth? annnd there we go. at the invitation, he drops down beside the fire in a boneless heap that's just a little more practiced faller than town drunk. he kicks off his shoes which are sopping wet from an unfortunate foray into an icy creek nearby, and props them near enough to the fire that the entire area is going to smell like feet before too long, because he's just. Like That. ）

I'll bite. （ a broad wink. ） Not hard. And only on one condition. We gotta have s'mores, man.

（ sweet tooth thy name is... ）