Caleb Hilkins

It's a Bloody Business // Caleb & Roman

Most of the trip to the hospital had been a blur of Caleb staring at his own blood-soaked palm and thinking about how he didn't like the smell. He was so fucking stupid - opening a package too carelessly, too quickly, and he'd ended up slicing open his hand. His secretary, who came in to tell him about a meeting, took one look at him and the colour drained from her face. Caleb quickly found himself being crammed into the back of a taxi, and driven to the nearest hospital. 

No? Just small talk, ha. 

Um, yeah, sure. I mean, it’s not the best, but it pays the bills.

Or maybe you’re not as skilled in the mastering of sarcasm department as you think you are. Ever consider that?

Nope, never, I'm highly skilled in that department. 

I seriously hope that wasn’t your best attempt at trying to come up with a fraternity name that actually sounded somewhat legitimate. Because if so, I’m going to have to suggest that you brush up on your skills so the next time a hot girl comes looking to insult you, you’re at least a tiny bit prepared.

I seriously hope you're better at picking up sarcasm than that. I'm rarely unprepared. 

Do you like your job?

You say that now— but who knows, the next time you could have no clue who you’d be challenging. Especially around here, Mr. Hilkins. It’s a dog-eat-dog business, and it would be a shame to see you setting yourself up for defeat. 

I'll try to be more careful from now on, thanks for the advice. 

I would have figured someone with your sort of title would be more cautionary when throwing out phrases like ‘sue me’ and so forth. 

Roslyn knitted her brows together, fishing her phone from her bag and glancing up at his brown eyes, before shrugging lightly. “I have a phone. I happen to find them more effective in these cases.” She gently tapped on the screen, clicking on her agenda and pursed her lips together. “I’m free for lunch tomorrow if you’re available?”

He thought for a moment. "I should be free, yes. Is there any place in particular you'd like? I myself, have been craving fusion cuisine, but that's just me". 

Because that doesn’t sound immature at all. 

Mmm, you’re a cocky one, aren’t you?

Well good thing because I was more of a jump rope girl myself. I just assumed if anything, you’d likely want to play something that involved a nice cold, alcoholic beverage on the side since you do kinda give off that eternal frat boy vibe. But your hands look empty. So unless you’re packin’ it somewhere very well hidden out of sight, I’m out of guesses.

Frat boy vibe? Wow. My brothers at Alpha Beta Delta Pi Carpe Diem are gonna be like, so totally pumped that I'm still representing the boys. 

Well of course, no one’s perfect.

I don't know, I come pretty close. 

Roslyn’s lips tugged up into a smirk. At least he knew who he was talking to. Most people didn’t know her as anything other than a name and nowadays, even fewer people were reading newspapers — or reading at all — so it was good that someone knew who she was and what she did. More exactly, how good she was at it. She pursed her lips, not giving much away of how interested she actually was. “I see.” She said it simply, before clearing her throat. “Well, I’m sure we can discuss this much further over a coffee or lunch?”

"Sure, sounds great," Caleb said. "Time and place?" He was a Hilkins, and that meant going big, or going home. He snapped his fingers. "Do you have a pen and paper? We should probably exchange contact information". 

I’ll pass on that one, thank you very much, but you could have come up with a better game at least, if you’re planning on randomly jump on people to play with them.

Why wouldn't it be allowed? Do you know what game I'm talking about?

I have a feeling almost everyone around here is capable of murder.

Well, nobody here's innately good. We've all done shitty things. 

And why do you assume that?

I don't know, you seem like you're very capable. Not saying you'd go around killing people.