nine times out of ten, veronica would find herself alone, lingering in the dark alley ; a cigarette in hand. yet, as fate would have it, the presence of another emerged much too soon for her liking. as the male stepped from the shadows, the dim light illuminating his features, the brunette’s gaze drifted toward him. “ depends on your definition of a bad night, ” the dancer quipped, taking a draw from her cigarette. his following rhetorical questions earned a genuine jingle of laughter that split her cherry-red lips. “ oh, darlin’, ” she began, softly imitating his own expression. “ we all have our problems. so, what makes you an exception? ” the edge of her mouth curved into a subtle smirk then, index finger gently flicking against the stick ; sprinkled cinders floating to gather at the damp ground beneath her feet. truthfully, sometimes, veronica felt as though she was a slave to her issues. that they controlled her more than she controlled them.
in veronica’s experience, the majority of the men she encountered inside the club were married, searching for a pretty girl to yap to about their marriage ; swearing that the marital strain was the main culprit for his infidelity. as if veronica would ever buy that kind of bullshit. still, that was her job, to bat her eyelashes and stroke the egos of desperate men. on the other hand, there remained the males who simply wandered into the club for nothing more than a good time. the kind of men with zero commitments or responsibilities — the unattached drifters, if you will. which bracket her latest companion fell under, veronica had yet to uncover but that sardonic tongue of his left her inclined to believe he fitted neither.
having taken another puff, the laugh that escaped veronica was accompanied by a cloud of hazy smoke. “ i’m not unsociable, ” she claimed, inky pupils peering across at the male. “ i’m selectively social. there’s a distinct difference. ” after inhaling another drag, she dropped the cigarette to the ground, crushing it beneath the sole of her stiletto. at his words, a more evident smirk embellished the curvature of her mouth ; a faint hum echoing within her throat. “ rest assured, i get plenty of attention. sure seems like i’ve got yours, hm? ” with a subdued simper framing her features, green-flecked eyes remained focused on the male.
"I deal with all my problems swiftly and efficiently." He flashed a shark like smile and took a drag from his cigarette. His expression went back to neutral and he moved to lean his back against the wall of the building. "You ought to come down to Rogue's and see my work some night. It's a sight to witness and it would give you a better understanding of why I'm problem free." His words were confident and boastful, despite them being untrue. Of course, the man had his own problems. His past, commitment issues, his need for all things physical, and the complex he had about being a father. All things he wouldn't be admitting to or telling a random dancer in an alleyway.
He hummed at her words, something he agreed with. Axel pulled another drag from his cigarette and blew the smoke out of the corner of his mouth. "Same." He chimed in. Axel talked to who he wanted to, when he wanted to. There was a select few he would seek out and go out of his way for. If you caught him with his kid, you might think he's an entirely different person altogether. When the sinister and sarcasm melts away, and he's talking about cartoons and comic book heroes. Coloring pictures with crayons. "You did, but I was just havin' smoke. You were the one that started talkin'." He pointed out and flicked the remainder of his cigarette down the alley.
"Why don't you take me inside and show me around? Maybe I could use some of this company everyone's goin' on about." If anything, it was something to do and occupy the hours until he needed to inevitably sleep for awhile. The air was heavy and dangerous in Red Ridge lately. It had even managed to creep under his thick shell every so once and awhile. Axel didn't like it, not one bit. "Plus you shouldn't be out here on your own with a killer runnin' around. Don't think the five-oh will do much a job protecting any of us." Least of all him and he didn't want them to. He could take care of himself.
