@manybcdthings roxy x felix - idk the names of prisons in vegas
The desert sun is already climbing, stretching long and mean across the parking lot of the state prison. It's quiet out here, except for the distant hum of traffic and the occasional clang of metal from the gates. Roxy's perched against Felix's bike like she owns it, arms crossed, leg kicked out, waiting. She's not impatient. Well, she is. But... she's missed him. And that's not the kind of thing she says out loud. Wouldn't say it now, even if she was tied to a chair with a gun to her head. (which sounds like a better time than all this fucking WAITING)
Her fingers drum against her arm, body humming with the anticipation of something that's been missing for too fucking long. Two months wasn't long, not really, not in the grand scheme of things. But things got too quiet, making her pick fights just to burn through whatever energy had nowhere else to go. She knows she's smirking before she even sees him, the flicker of something sharp and wicked sparking in her chest. And when the doors open, when she finally lays eyes on him, all tall and tattooed and serious as ever, that something sharp just snaps into place.
Her eyes darken, locked in like a hunter tracking prey. Watching the way he doesn't even rush. Doesn't pick up the pace, just keeps walking like this is any other Tuesday. Fucking fucker. She dangles the bike keys between two fingers, tilting her head, smirk creeping wider as he gets closer. "Damn, baby, you're looking real good for someone who's spent the last two months getting dicked down in the showers." her grin sharpens, head tilting up to meet his gaze head on. "Or were you the one doing the dicking?"
