“I didn’t think progress happened when one stood idly by,” Easterman cooed.
“Progress on suckin’ my fat cock” Coyle spat back, angered by Easterman’s unbothered laughter filling the room.
“When I desire your lowly opinion on the current state of things, Leland, I will pull it from that haphazard dumpster fire you call a mouth. Until then… I expect my best students to do more than litter my halls twiddling their thumbs when there’s work to be done… Do we understand?”
There’s a beat between all of them, and it satisfies the unseen director with a content sigh. The crackle of the speaker powers off, and by the time Coyle has mouthed off his usual slurs and volatile commentary, he notes that Goosebury and her talkative right hand have all but disappeared from sight. The police officer corrects his posture, thumbing his baton off to tap against his broad shoulder. He rolls the cigarette around his mouth, teeth clamping down hard on the end of it to get a kick of tobacco that tastes acrid against his tongue. It was a cowardly thing to do, he thought, to up and leave with little to no explanation when someone was running around fucking around with this idyllic paradise.
An ALTERNATE ENDING Reagent OC x Leland Coyle fic.
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