serpent

      no one’s trying to scare anyone here; leon’s simply directing traffic, finishing his cigarette. he lets out a bit of a chuckle, if anything to assure the man there’s nothing to worry about. any friend of oleg’s. “i’m sorry to hear that, my friend.” 

      he makes note of the crossed arms. “oleg’s a real fucking prick, eh ?” oleg’s leon’s ‘business partner’-- he’s used to him bringing around new faces. not completely comfortable with it, but used to it. still, he’s laughing as he says it, flicking the ashes from his cigarette. it’s burning faster than he can smoke it. BUT he means it. 

            Petra has only just clocked in, never late for a shift and never one to like her customers waiting on things. It appears she is only too happy to be stopped in her tracks, empty, crumb - littered plates balanced upon slender hand and wrist. She is never unused to the politeness of people, whether they’re thugs, cops or teenagers, something about her always naturally demands that of people, the lovely drawn right out of them.

            “Sure thing, honey! ANY TIME. Let me go put these dirty plates in the kitchen’n’I’ll whisk y’up a fresh pot pronto!”

      he hadn’t meant to catch the busiest waitress in the restaurant, but he’s nevertheless appreciative of the kindness. he wonders for a moment hoe someone could be so happy-- especially with a pile of dirty plates in hand. but there she is smiling, cleaning up after ( he’s sure ) unappreciative customers. it’s impressive. if there’s anything leon respects, it’s a solid work ethic. 

      all expression washes away from the dane’s face the second her fingers touch his lips. she’s annoying him-- but she knows that, and he knows that she’s doing it purely to tick him the fuck off. it’s working. but he refuses to give her the satisfaction; he  

      his hands begin to form fists on their own accord, but leon makes sure to stop himself. “oh, perhaps.” it slips out like a snake’s his from between his tightly-knitted lips.