♚ Tᴡᴏ-Tɪᴍᴇʀ ♟
His days in Hive City up until now had been a precarious balance between play, pleasure, and the ever-dreaded pressures that accompanied overseeing an organization of such girth. Crime couldn’t simply run itself after all; a lesson Roman had done well to take straight to heart. Unfortunately, the occasional tete-a-tete betwixt prospective partners was simply a must in terms of fostering a happy and healthy dictatorship among scumbags and thieves. Though of course, establishing power itself was something of a cinch compared to keeping it...
“My...well if this isn’t an awkward situation.” Alight with his usual amusement stood the redhead’s tone, a bottle of amber liquid frozen in the intended act of re-filling the crystalline tumbler staged before him. In the silence to follow was the minute shift of ice audible, two sets of eyes much in favor of the silhouette framed against Roman’s door rather than the simple (insufferable) pleasures the pair had engaged in now and again.
A beat followed before the kingpin resumed the pouring of his drink, something of a low hum transcending lips sealed shut. One ounce. Two. Four. Ice bobbed precariously close to the top by the time he’d nearly emptied the contents of the bottle into his glass. So following did he rise and, having exchanged his grip on the container for the aforementioned glass, take a healthy swig of honeyed liquor intended to see him through what was a most egregious challenge ahead.
“Doesn’t anyone ever think to knock these days?”
@incinderation ➤ @taureaus