Was it stupid of her? yes. Ā Would be she lying if she said the hunt didnāt excite her? Also yes.
She was half bent over a stack of unopened mail on his counter top when the shuffle of feet and cocking of a gun made her still.Something akin to absolute excitement stirred deep in her belly, under the folds of an expensive satin shirt she had no intention of ruining tonight.
āHello.ā she had turned to look at him, her expression candid and her smile sweet āonly 60?ā she chuckle, tossing her head sharply, all that dark hair catching the streaming moonlight in a lovely but foreboding second. āHmm..ā She picked up a discarded butter knife, toying with the thing between leather gloved hands. ā-iām not here for any of your belongings-ā she pointed the business end of the knife at him as she crossed the living room ā-so relax. This isnāt a robbery.ā
Chelsea made her way to the window, awfully aware that still had the gun trained on her. She was starving and so, it was a pair of beady black eyes that stared across the room at him, her skin smooth but grey in the moonlight. Under her eyes, she sported heavy black bags she had tried, and failed, to cover up with makeup. She looked a fucking wreck. A junkie breaking in for money, perhaps.
Chelsea stared out the window for a moment before glancing over her shoulder at him ā-Iām not going to hurt youā she lied, right though those pearly white teeth. She tapped the knife against the window pane before setting it down upon the sill ā-my name is Chelsea.ā
āāYes, 60āā He said curtly, āāI donāt appreciate uninvited guests, do you?āā Not daring to take his eyes of her, not even for a second, ray caught the glint off of her hair. What he had so far learned over the years that with people not immediately making their nature and intentions known, the better it was to take notice of every little detail you could safely gage.
There was barely a dent in his behaviour or body language as she grabbed the knife, simply keeping the gun trained on her as he had been, almost confidently so. āāThatās a relief, not that iād have anything of value for you to steal anyway,āā He shrugged casually, not particularly phased by the pointed knife. As if naturally walking across the living room with an āinvited guestā instead, Ray followed, copying her yet staying a safe enough distance away. āIf youāre not here to steal anything, care to actually get to the fucking point as to why you are here?ā His impatience at her avoiding to answer the question shining through.
Although in most situations Ray could be patient just fine, when it came to situations like this one though, wherein the other took their sweet time to tell him what it was they actually wanted, he was the exact opposite. Despite him having tried to get rid of it, lately his new situation had made it all the more difficult for him to reign it in.
As she stood by the window, ray this time took more note of her appearance, frowning as he did. Not that he looked all that better, looking as if he hadnāt slept in days himself. Maybe she was a client..? Although clients were usually way less talkative and more direct than she was clearly being. And if it was drugs or alcohol related, which wouldnāt surprise him, he imagined she would have just stolen whatever valuables he had in sight.
Ray stared at her the moment she did, finding her stare a bit unnerving. The second she turned around he did a quick visual check of the apartment from where he was standing in preparation for anything.
Facing her again, he raised an eyebrow at her words and odd behaviour, wondering why she took the knife in the first place. āāIf youāre out of butter knives, help yourself.āā he said sarcastically, āāThatās great Chelsea,āā Offering her a slightly annoyed smile, āāIām Ray, now Talk or Leave.āā
