(Roc) "Ahhh, I have such a crick in my neck, been sleepin' so long. Lobco, sweetiepie, can you gimme a massage?" Guess who's back? And that smile of his? It's alllll teeth.
Those moments of quiet sheâs allowed when Roc gets so busy with work, his brother, or everything else in his life are ones that Lobco cherishes. It means that things can be quiet in her head, her body can rest, and her heart doesnât have to feel so conflicted and battered.
At least thatâs how it had been at first. After a point Lobco started to get nervous. Uncertainty filled her when Roc became so absent in her life. He had been such a constant, a fixture to have it become that she only saw him a bit on some nights when he went to sleep left her feeling strangely lost and confused. That sense of unease grew and grew as more time passed. For so long she was unable to pinpoint what it was that gnawed at her day in and day out. She should be happy!
Yet in time it became evident that the source of her anxiety was caused by Rocâs absence: was he planning something big? Was he finally bored of her and intending to kill her? OrâŠhad he simply forgotten about her, like everyone else had?
So when it seems he wants to spend some time with her itâs not the usual fear or resignation that falls upon her features, but a cautious confusion.
âOh! Ah.â A massageâŠis a fairly simple thing to ask for, relative to his usual demands and Lobco does like giving them to people so..
ââŠalright. Go ahead and lie down.â
Whenever he had to hunt down a mark it was the time of his life. The hours of night sniffing out clues and finding family and friends to press. Finally catching a trace and the thrill of the chase that ensued. Taunts and laughter, battles and blades. All of it punctuated by screams and fantastic spatters of blood.
And as much as it was his favorite, as much as this most recent job had been a rush, even when the little rat managed to slip his grasp for just one more night⊠That same adventure had eaten up a lot of his time over the last few months. He would never complain, though, not when that final look of terror sparked in those criminal eyes had been so fun. When he stamped them out under his boot.
âHeh. Thanks!â
Lobco; sweet, darling Lobco. She was always home waiting for him. Its why he grins as brightly as ever when she agrees to his request.
Already heâs kicked his shoes off, shrugged his coat and tie into the hamper for a castle maid to pick up for a thorough wash. He brushes past her on the bed and stretches out his back, groaning over a loud pop between his shoulder blades.
Staking out on a grassy hill for hours sucked because it took too long for anything to actually happen, but he wonders now if it sucked for another reason too. Hmph.
âHey, do I got a story for you. You know that stupid gang? One tryinâ to get a foothold in the east cities? Itâs fine if ya donât, I fucked up most of them so bad they havenât been active for decades. But their leader? The brains of the operation?â Roc crows, words more subdued than he intends while facing his crossed arms smooshed over a pillow. He tilts his head back as far as it will go, as if the minor edges of his periphery can make out anything on Lobco besides a blur of red curls.
His fist clenches proudly, ignoring the pain that throbs through his neck in this contorted position. He had something important to say!
âGuess who served some justice last night?â
