“I f-fucking hate working with the snowman,” Roman stuttered through firmly clenched teeth as he sent a glare Victors’ way, “remind me to have you killed when we get out of h-here.”
His hands thrust in his pockets to keep them from visibly trembling, Victor sighed and kicked at the floor to disrupt the inches of snow which covered the area.
“I did say to bring your jacket.” Victor retorted, also unhappy with the cold they were forced to wait in until Freeze appeared. “The meet is due to start soon. We just need to wait."
“Watch your tongue, Mister Zsasz,” brushing a few stray snowflakes off the shoulder of his suit jacket, Roman refused to admit fault, “or I’ll have it attached to one of these frozen poles and ripped off.”
Sighing once again, Victors’ eyes flew to the nearby door as heavy footsteps approached and he straightened his posture in preparation. He glanced at Roman to see that he was matching his position, determined to show no weakness.
“Just so you know, boss,” Victor muttered lowly, “that was a shit threat.”