#;; dev

The Voodoo Dive Bar was really a piece of shit bar and Leo was fine with that. They didn’t glare at him for smoking inside and he could drink in peace, leg jigging up and down restlessly as it tended to do whenever he wasn’t running. He got his second drink of the night, taking a drag of his cigarette when he saw someone walk in and automatically stiffened. The part of him that wanted to run was just as stubborn as the part that wanted to stay out of defiance. As if to say you left me and I still didn’t fucking die. 

He decided he’d let the DuPont be the uncomfortable party this time. He wasn’t leaving. Taking a swig of his beer, he stared from his seat, uncaring if he bore holes into the backs of their head as he did so. There was no love lost between Leo and those he’d been at the Institute with years ago. Any sentiment had become fuel and that had kept him going despite their abandonment. Despite the next years he endured practically alone. No, there was no love lost between them, so when he caught their eye, he remained impassive, as cold as a statue carved from stone.