The Hustle.

Skylar frowned upon discovering the tissue box in his lap, picking it up by the corner - holding it like the thing was poisoned - before flicking it aimlessly in the direction of his company.  Didn’t need those fucking things; he never cried. Or so he liked to tell himself.  Half a cheese sandwich was quickly devoured and crumbs brushed from his hands. The young man was always hungrier than he thought - as it took more energy to be blind than he dared to ever admit.  Another bout of silence fell upon the both of them, as they each focused in their own little ways on the movie, the characters, the words… until a single line caught Skylar’s attention more so than the others… rousing a question… 

They believe they’re destined for great things, just like many of you, their eyes are full of hope, just like you. 

“C-can — Can eyes even be full’er hope?” 

Adonis had given Skylar the tissues so he could hold the sandwiches with them or at least keep them under those sandwiches to catch crumbs. He himself managed to snatch a tissue of his own to do the former, but he chewed slowly. Skylar must have eaten at least three mini-sandwiches by the time Adonis finished half of his. He was more interested in the movie than in his appetite right now– even though he hadn’t eaten since breakfast and was rather hungry.

When Sky asked that question, however, Adonis moved his eyes from the screen to Sky’s face. He paused for a moment – only to take the question in – but he didn’t pause enough to think over his reply, which was an almost instinctive, “They can. Yours are, sometimes.” His voice softened remarkably as he said the words, and he gazed at Sky’s eyes to see if they were full of hope at this very moment.

Unbeknownst to Skylar, for a brief moment, his blue eyes had lifted and locked right onto Adonis’s. It was a sensitive topic, one he didn’t often dabble with conversation in, but the young man trusted the other enough these days to ask the questions that often make him feel ridiculous. 

“So --- you can literally see hope in me’ eyes?” 

@bruisedxpetals​

With a whizz of a coffee machine and the sudden crash of - what sounded like - a hundred mugs spiralling to the floor, Nate’s attention was lifted from the book he was reading, to the counter of the niche little coffee shop he had been sitting in the corner of for however long… Upon the young barista’s cheeks turning such a brilliant shade of pink, the poor boy avoiding the glare of the manager on the tills - the man was about to focus back down on the words he were previously sifting through, when a wisp of red caught the corner of his eye.

He double took. 

Fucking hell – how long has she been sat there?! Practically right in front of him… with that gorgeous mane and pretty pale complexion .. the girl was something else…

“– s-sorry ….” Without a second thought, Nate folded his book, using a finger as it’s temporary bookmark as he leaned forwards. “– did we? — did we go to school together?” They absolutely did not. 

Delilah knew that hiring someone with zero selling experience was quite a risk, regardless of the love and skill the young woman had honed in her years tending to roses in private. That Mrs Burrows had given her a chance despite it – perhaps the girls´ ardent enthusiasm for all things growing had convinced her – had been her once in a lifetime chance to make something out of herself, now that she´d left her home´s shelter by choice. Some days, much like today, she offered dashing over to the next-door coffee shop to fetch them a hot beverage and a piece of sweet deliciousness for a quick afternoon break. That it would take a little longer this time though, she could not know. 

“Ah, don´t worry – “ the redhead squinted at the name tag – “Oscar. Just make me another one.” Clearly, the young barista had underestimated the coffee´s scalding heat and dropped the two ready mugs but Dee remained calm, even smiled at him.  The manager was about to utter yet another apology when her attention was torn away from them and to a voice behind her. She turned around to find a gorgeous dark-locked man adressing her. “Oh – I doubt it.” Dee chuckled. “I was homeschooled.” Her cheeks tinted pink and puffed over the upturned corners of her mouth. 

“It is?!” He all but breathed with a laugh, holding the book up a little and gestured with it. “- I - I’ve only just started it ... well -- y’know, it’s one of those I’ve tried to read a hundred times but always get caught mid way... s-so -- so this is attempt number.... hundred.. ” One thing was for sure, the animated man loved to talk. His speech usually full to the brim with little huffs and puffs of laughter - Nathaniel was simply always happy. 

After a short pause, he finds the young woman’s eyes with his own. Tone taking a slightly more gentle affect,  

With her heart set on that bottle of whiskey, Selina didn’t pay much attention to her friend’s natterings as she made herself at home; stripping off her jacket, chucking it over the back of a seat, and padding over to table where her poison awaits.  “Mhhm, well –” She held up the glass, sending Claude a small nod of gratitude with it, before pouring a generous amount of the dark syrup down. “– you are always right… and know me far too well —” pausing, the drink was risen again, “Cheers?”

“Only doin’ wha’ you would do for me.”

He meant it. Gideon knew the petite little chick would flap around if he looked half as close to death as she did right now. Just half a year before, he had come down with a cold and the way his wife had pandered over him - anyone would have thought it was the end of the world.

Reaching across, he picks up the now almost empty glass. He would refill it for her before heading to bed himself,

Speaking of.

“I’ll sleep on the couch tonight.”

He wasn’t a man of many words. Many would have thought it was rude, but she knew her husband. He meant it, and it was his way of telling her he loved her. They were both stubborn, and she thought she had to turn to tie him to the bed when he was ill last time. Eventually, she had managed to get him to listen to her. Giving his hand a last squeeze before letting his hand go it was tucked back under the sheets like the rest of her. At least she would get a good night sleep, hopefully, her body didn’t ache as much. 

“You don’t have to,” she told him as he said he’d sleep on the sofa. On the other hand, it might be better, if both of them got sick then none of them would be any good. They didn’t have any family in the area, they were on their own. 

It felt as if she was going to melt into the mattress Ophelia knew that before he got back she would be asleep. Might as well, that way she couldn’t find something to do. Settling against her pillow, and sure enough, she was out cold after just a few minutes. 

In a blink of his eyes it would seem the entire world was flipped upside down, their little flat included.  All the windows were pushed open, with strict instructions never to be closed until she started showing signs of being back to full health - and copious amounts of Aspirin was delivered soon after. Gideon was to monitor her himself. Push her to drink plenty, push her to eat, push her to stay in bed, push her to stay fresh, push her to take the painkillers, push her to rest. Worst of all - she were to stay in their bedroom, alone and isolated unless any of those orders were necessary to take place. 

Cute wasn’t the word Gideon would place on the child. Charming perhaps – no — tolerable. He hadn’t ever been the sort to day dream of his future, especially not a future of happy families and kids running havoc round a house. Instead his priorities had been far more encouraged to be set upon something entire more different; money and power. 

Gritting his jaw, he couldn’t help the small smirk which had been mustered straight from the petite little things sheer cheek.  She apparently had more courage than her father. 

“Not particularly,”

“—- but I am admittedly a little frightened of yer’ reaction if I refuse —” Grim huffed, “Is there space f’me then?”

Adonis’ face flushed when Pearl asked her question. He almost intervened, telling Pearl that Gideon had already said no and she shouldn’t insist because he must be tired – or some other excuse Adonis could come up with other than “this is awkward”.

However, before his lips could form a word, Gideon replied to Pearl with a smirk that made Adonis’ heart clench. It was like Adonis’ heart itself was holding its breath until Grim said that he was afraid of refusing Pearl’s wishes.

Slowly, silently, Adonis exhaled.

@thosedirtygrifters​ asked: 🗣

Only when he felt the gentle shift of the couch, did Skylar’s attention flicker from the movie…

He knew it was Adonis just by two factors; his smell — sweet but clean, crisp cologne that often lingered long after the other had left — and that soft (almost inaudible) sigh the other man always produced as he took a seat. It didn’t matter where.  “D–Did y’ make me..?” Using his nose, it was evident enough that the other man had been out there making up those -briefly - promised sandwiches. Sky leaned forwards, using the tips of his fingers to locate the corner of the tray, “– What … what sort’a sarnies are we talkin’ about ‘ere? Cheese? - did y’ put butter in this time…”   

Maybe Skylar hadn’t spoken while Adonis was in the kitchen, but his mouth surely worked at full efficiency again when Adonis sat down next to him. Babbling about the sandwiches, asking what they were. He wouldn’t be able to tell that Adonis didn’t look at him. Adonis’ eyes remained fixated on the screen even as he answered Skylar’s questions. “Yes, cheese. Yes, I did put in butter.” Then, it occurred to him to be a little hospitable, so he reached across the coffee table to grab a tissue box, which he placed in Skylar’s lap.

They believe they're destined for great things, just like many of you, their eyes are full of hope, just like you. 

A yawn. “Si?”

“Oh, don’ start with that Italian shit, Izz - y’know I ‘aint got no clue...”  Skylar was taking the piss. Something he considered himself mastered in. That and ‘Sí’ was by far the least of the young man’s experience with trying to make sense of his friends habit of switching too and from her native tongue. 

His hand rests on the door frame, from where he’d previously been gliding a thumb down the indents of the brickwork. He knew it was Izzie’s house just by that little nook taken out the second brick up from the bell...

He could tell in that instant - just in the way his eyes changed and tone deepened- that Alec was the type of man in need of more official favours. Not the type of favours a friend offered out willy nilly; a car ride or a borrowed suit - but a favour that meant the be all and end all.

The types of favours Nate lived by.

“A favour… sure —” The hand of cards was momentarily placed down,

“Got one in mind?”

His hands holding the cards sank a bit down, but not enough for the other man to see anything on them. It probably wasn’t a good idea to put even more pressure on themselves like this; but hell, then where was the fun?

Alec began to chew on the inside of his cheek while watching Nate, studying him, pondering on his suggestion. Actually, a huge favor would surely be a good thing. Right?

The pair were strangers. Only joined through this stupid game of poker they’d both stumbled into round the back of a grungy, grotty bar. Well, at least Nate had stumbled in - he couldn’t speak for the other...

Selina. Selina was back in town. Selina, the woman Richard hadn’t seen in a year. Selina who marked the final memory in Richard’s mind as her back leaving the door. Selina... The love of his life.... That Selina was back in London. There Richard lay, tossing and turning in his bed, before eventually sitting up on the bed’s edge. Sweated palms pressed against his face before raking his fingers against his tousled hair. How the hell was he meant to sleep during a time like this? Now, Richard may not have had the number or address of where she was saying-- Of course, Seth wouldn’t give it to him, that would be too easy-- but damn did he want to talk to her. To see her again. He needed to know she was okay. He had to-- A hollow knock. Blue eyes glanced to his electronic clock sitting on his bedside table: 12:05 A.M.

Up in the bedroom, her green eyes flickered over the familiarities; the bed sheets of which she had so missed the smell of, a pile of washing in the corner or the room --- and something she paid special attention to -- the unslept space beside his in the bed,  Her mind then switched to the fact that she was wearing fucking jeans. 

“R-Richie ---”

The second Trusty had let his name slip, Sykes knew this bright eyed girl wasn’t going to let it go. No, Charlotte seemed a hell of a lot more switched on than most girls that hung around dickheads like the one lingering back at his club. They wanted one thing - and unlike the men they pandered to – that one thing was their money. 

“– ‘s uh —-” A large, paw like hand rubbed at his chin. Scratching the stubble. “—  Sykes ‘s wha’ people call me, ‘aint it — but .. y’know…. you can call me Ewan f’yer want…” It took everything he had to avoid those stupid, crazy eyes staring at him once again through the mirror. Ewan Sykes knew it himself well enough, that most people didn’t get the luxury of being on first name basis with him right off the bat – without Trusty’s cocky glare to remind him.  “Tell the git yer’ address before his ears fall off.”

Charlotte´s face lighted up at learning her companion´s real name – it had a lovely ring to it, much softer than Sykes. Her eyes switched between him who seemed slightly embarrassed by the unwanted revelation and the man in front who seemed to have fun with the little havoc he´d caused. Did he… snigger? 

“I´d like that, yes,” the blonde smiled at him, for a moment tempted to reach out her hand for a mock-formal introduction. But instead, she let the corners of her mouth pull up even further while finding an utter fondness for his baffled state, before she turned back to the driver and gave him her coordinates. Much to her grief, their shared ride ended only few minutes later.

He managed to contain it for the best part. Something about beaming at the woman felt a little off - considering everything she had been through the past hour. 

“Th-that would --- that would be nice, miss ... I’d like tha’...”