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Middle men were unpredictable and flaky, but most importantly, they were stupid. It was why Anton preferred to work directly with a client - or partner. His line of work tended to be a little too sensitive, at least in his mind, and he didn’t trust any of it to simply be given to someone expendable. It didn’t sit well with him.
Unfortunately, he had to play nice, if only for this one instance; the client was big, secretive, someone that Anton wanted to eventually press under his thumb, but it grew difficult to do so, so playing their game looked like the right call for now - even if that meant forgoing the comfort of his personal office in favor of a dank and dark motel lobby.
The vomit green paint that was slathered across the four walls peeled and curled like the skin of an orange under the sun, and the room itself smelled of old cigarette ash and sweat. Anton was certain he’d sink into the couch cushion and never resurface if he took a seat, so he opted to stand, straight and silent as he waited for word on the living.
When movement did happen and the dust that had started to settle was disturbed, Anton lifted a curious brow as he surveyed the face of this supposed middle man that made itself known. He hummed before greeting with, “you don’t look like a Paolo.”
The man he encountered on this particular evening was quite the looker, but it was when he foolishly bragged about what he did that opened an opportunity. Reaching for the bottom of his shirt, Akihiro encouraged him to share the information he carried. The other was initially reluctant, but Akihiro had his ways. He uttered a few enticing words, shifting the aforementioned man closer. A sharp intake of breath kept him in his grasp, taking in his scent in generous doses.
Soon, he’d find the intended location taken from the other’s device, tucking it into the inner pocket of his open black vest. The familiar scent of cigarettes and previous clients thickened the air as he sucked in a deep breath. He made his way through the hallways before finding the door, supposedly the one of the individual the one called ‘Paolo’ was talking about.
Without a moment’s a hesitation, he hastily shut the door behind him and crossed his arms, quirking a brow at the sight of the man. Narrowed eyelids attempted to make out his features under the dimming lights. One couldn’t deny that he was in the presence of an unknown individual. Man? Mutant? Even as the other commented on him not being ‘Paolo,’ he continued to observe with careful interest.
“Was that his name?” he chuckled, brushing his thumb ever so slowly across his bottom lip. “He had to cancel last minute. I hope that’s not too disappointing for you.”
kaledo-art
izzy806
dailybridgerton
