"PLEASE OFFICER," The woman on the television pleaded, bloodshot eyes turning glassy for the fifth time that episode. "You have to find him, he--- he killed my daughter! My only daughter!"

Ringo bit his lip, praying that Paul didn't suddenly come out of the bathroom. Thankfully, he didn't. And Ringo flickered to and fro channels for something positive.

"75% chance of rain---"

"Rising pandemic---"

"Seven injured in car crash---"

The teen pursed his lips in annoyance and defeatedly went back to the Crime & Investigation channel. He continued nibbling on his lower lip, eyes trained on the detective who was currently shooting question after question at who seemed like the killer. Ringo was absorbed into the story, hugging his knees to his chest as the man started to sweat under pressure.

"He isn't the killer."

Ringo jumped, causing the remote to jolt from his lap to the rug. He whirled around, shooting a glare at the man who just came out of the shower.

"You scared the fuck out of me!"

"Language." He scolded, as if saying the f-word was a whole lot worse than what he did. "And it's obvious he didn't kill him/her, look at his hands. They're smooth. Someone who'll at least know how to handle a weapon obviously has callouses."

Ringo stared at him incredulously, eyebrows knitted together. "He's an actor."

He scoffed. "He's everything but a killer."

"Just because he looks innocent doesn't mean he didn't do it!"

"And what do you know about it?" Paul taunted, a scowl setting in his lips. "I bet you close your eyes whenever gorey scenes appear in horror movies."

Ringo's face fell, eyes gleaming with fear. Paul suddenly felt sick to the stomach. He was used to seeing them in his victims eyes but this changed everything. Ringo changed eveything. He wasn't a prostitute, he wasn't some disgusting whore who flaunted at the streets with more skin bared than a normal person's dignity could even manage.

"Shit," Paul whispered, and Ringo would've laughed at how ironic this whole "language" situation was when his back wasn't pressed against the couch like he was some cornered dog. "Shit, I'm sorry---"

"It's fine." He butted in, giving Paul a small smile. "I am a bit of a scaredy-cat..."

"Aren't we all?"

"You?" Ringo raised an eyebrow. "What could you possibly be afraid of?"

"Scoot over." Paul suddenly said.

"Only if you answer my question." He pestered stubbornly, like the detective did in the tv show.

"Maybe next time, doll." And before Ringo could open his mouth, Paul shushed him with a finger on his lips. "But I promise I'll answer it."

He narrowed his eyes at him, lips pursed in a stubborn little pout Paul found strangely cute.

"Fine." He turned to the television screen. "I'm taking you seriously on that one, Paul."

The man's eyes widened at that but the teen seemed unfazed by it. His name sounded innocent coming from his lips, like he was somekind of weird, fucked-up friend instead of a killer. And, to be honest, Paul preferred the former.

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Sorry if updates are slow,, The only place with wifi is at my grandma's house and we only go there every other day

Also the thing Paul said to Ringo about the horror movies happened to me when I was in sixth grade. I was having an argument with my so-called friend an he practically called me a pussy with that sentence

Anywho vote and comment !!

All the love,

-Grace