#mmmhmhm

“Cashmere! What the hell?! I’m married!”

            She’s an image he’s seen many times before.    A  mauled  canvas,    stained black and blue,   with brutalized history tucked away behind eyes  DEAD  beyond their years.    And yet,  curiosity never rouses from its silence;  questions remain completely non-existent.    One’s past is  theirs  alone,  he believed.   Some stories simply weren’t  meant  to be told.   “  ———  Easy.  ”   He lowly drawls whilst sustaining a  safe  proximity.   Neither know who is capable of what.   Victor’s response was nothing short of automatic caution,  his trusty  WES-44  kept holstered but close at his thigh.   It’s clear that he doesn’t intend to use it unless given a reason.   And until that said reason comes,   his hands hold a bottled water.  Fresh and unopened,  and poised for her to have.   “  You’re dehydrated as all hell,  darlin’.   Take it.  ”