swine | ☆

○ chapter 9. ●

CWs: Some characters being bitches.

short chapter today because christmas has me wrecked.

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When Y/n found Erin, he was sitting on a concrete block and tapping his thumb to every finger but his ring finger as a way to stay focused on anything other than his swelling emotions.

When Wade found Y/n, the former was panting and clutching a stitch in his side. He tried to say something, but it just came out as incomprehensible, breathy syllables.

The (h/c) boy was immediately at Erin's side. "Nobody's dead, right? You haven't punched someone?"

"Don't ask that. He'll wind up punching you gently in the mouth with his lips," Hannah remarked dully, her attention stolen by Towa, who she carefully applied eyeliner to.

Erin grabbed Y/n's hand with his free one, squeezing it lightly. He didn't respond to Hannah's crude words, nor did he deny them. Deciding that a hand wasn't enough, Erin pulled Y/n up to sit next to him.

"Where are Ezra and Teagan?" Y/n asked, changing the subject and shifting to sit on the block properly, which was apparently not allowed because Erin squeezed his hand tighter as punishment.

Hannah groaned, dropping her head for a moment and then lifting it to make sure she hadn't messed up with the eyeliner pencil. Towa hesitated to answer, letting the question hang in the air for a moment.

"They're probably fucking behind a wall somewhere," Erin answered when Towa didn't.

The black-haired boy nodded in agreement, quickly being reprimanded by Hannah, who slapped him gently on the side of the thigh for moving.

"Really?" Y/n questioned, even though he, as well as everyone else who had the displeasure of hearing the couple's hushed conversations, knew that it was about as likely as Dayton being high as shit every other day.

"Really. Them two are fucking freaks!" Hannah started, having to take the applicator away from Towa's eye to make exaggerated hand movements. "I swear to god, ever since Ezra turned eighteen they've been 'making love' more often than they've been making eye contact!"

"Why are we talking about this, again?" Wade chimed in, his voice still a bit winded and his tanned complexion flushed with exertion. He leaned on the concrete block that Erin and Y/n shared as a seat.

"Because if one of them dies, we'll know it's because they're the hot jock-cheerleader couple, and everyone knows that that trope always lives a short life," Hannah said, and Y/n only avoided wincing because of whose hand was currently suffocating his.

Y/n didn't even want to consider his own friends becoming victims of The Swine. The threat was too possible; too real. He becoming one, himself, was one thing. If you asked him, Y/n would be unable to answer why he was so abruptly worried over the possibility of one of his friends dying, while he'd been face-to-face with the actual threat and had said threat's murder weapon pressed against his throat, and even that didn't stir as many nerves as the risk of Erin, Towa, Hannah, Teagan, anyone, dying to The Swine.

Anyone he cared about too much. They couldn't.. couldn't die.

Not so early. Not when there were so many people who cared about them, so much more life for them to live out. No, not yet.

"Jesus, are you okay, Wade?" Towa asked, hand flying up to his mouth so it didn't look like he was laughing at how short-winded the brunet appeared (he definitely was).

Wade turned slowly, dramatically to Towa, who loosened up as Hannah finished fussing over the wing of his liner and pulled the tool away (the wing looked absolutely flawless to Y/n, but he's no professional).