#;zero01

A day of roaming the city and getting no closer to finding your apartment than you’d been this morning had ended with you curling up on a park bench. Your legs ached and your eyelids were heavy so the best option had seemed to be to fall asleep anywhere you could, even if that somewhere was a bench exposed to the elements (which meant the really, really cold air; you wished you had a sweater). It seems like you’d barely laid your head down and fallen asleep when you find yourself waking up, blearily blinking and clutching tightly to your rose as you tried to figure out what had woken you up.

The answer comes very easily, actually. You merely lift your eyes up and there is a man with an eye patch who looks vaguely familiar. It takes a moment for your sleep addled mind to make the connection and when it does you find yourself surprised that you had forgotten Zero for even a moment. You lift up your rose, sleepily waving it at him, and manage to muster up the energy to say a quiet “hi” before laying your head back down on the bench. If it’s no problem with him, you’d like to go back to sleep.

     There was a certain shamelessness of the man in front of Nero. An sly expression, an evil glimmer in his eye. It wasn’t hard to tell from first glance that the man in front of him was very clearly the sort that wasn’t trustworthy. The sort that knew about things the ordinary person didn’t like to consider. And had probably participated in a few of them. That was Nero’s perception, anyways.

     It was too bad that was the exact reason he was approaching him. Here’s hoping his hunch is right, or he’ll look like a colossal idiot.