miles-leszczynski

[miles-leszczynski]

reina-chen:

“I could ask you the same question,” Reina pointed out with a tilt of her head, “Oh come on…” She whispered, shaking her head at him, “You don’t even know what I’m planning, you don’t even know where I’m hiding my weapon, yet.” Reina pointed out with raised brows and as she said the words, one hand instinctively falling down his neck and pressing to his chest where she had assumed his had been placed. Alas, she couldn’t feel anything, but Miles was an expert of these things and she would be foolish to assume that he wasn’t armed in a place where Isaac walked. And where could her weapon be placed? What was it? Something for Reina to know only. 

Perhaps her actions were a little too early for Miles to accept them as jokes. Hell, even the mere fact that she was at this gala was probably a bad sign in his eyes but she thought that calling him up and asking for his assistance would have been a wrong move. She didn’t know whether Miles wanted to even see her again and yet here he was - protecting her - even when she hadn’t asked him to. Why did he do that? But then, she could also ask herself the same question. Why did she protect him when he hadn’t asked for protection? it was a vicious cycle, one that Reina was eager to get out of. 

Her eyes shifted to those around them, subtlety looking in the direction where Isaac had last been seen but unsurprisingly, he was gone. Damn. “But since you’re here and… I guess distracting me -” Reina started, looking to him now with the purest of sincerities, “I owe you an apology.” She said in a low voice, “For Sam… For going behind your back even though you said not to do anything. I asked you to show me the real you so that I could trust you and in the process, I gave you a reason to not trust me so… I’m sorry. I know you were only trying to protect me but I wanted to protect you too from having to engage with a fucking psychopath for my benefit so I wasn’t thinking. But I can see now that by lying we just hurt one another and I don’t want that. I’m done with lying and making decisions for you. So - if you let me… I would really like a second chance.”

        “the fact that you even have a weapon, makes me concerned.” his eyes followed her hand as it travelled down his neck to the line of his suit jacket. her fingers inched outward one by one to cover the outer fabric. it was an innocent gesture, one that could have easily been interpreted as a gentle caress. but their history meant that miles knew better, and some small part, albeit some twisted part, forced the corner of his mouth to adopt an upward tilt. “you’re not the only one who’s hiding things around here.” 

in perfect time to the rise and fall of the string quartet, miles spun reina outward in a flurry of limbs, hair and fabric. her dress made it a sight to behold and had it not been for their own vanity, the gala’s guests might have even confessed their own jealousy. still they carried on in their gossip and their politics and they did not notice that the twirl was not out of the simple delight of spinning her around, but a strategic manoeuvre on his part to direct her hand elsewhere should it start wondering away from its usual spot on his chest to where his actual weapon might be. 

“distracting you? you flatter me,” he said with the expectation that she would counter his wit with her own equally sharp one. what he did not expect in return was the offered sincerity, let alone an actual apology. 

wide shoulders rose and fell with a deep sigh based in some other emotion he can’t quite name, and with one hand still on her waist, he gently moved their joined hands to rest over his heart. steadily, the bleeding organ thudded under her touch, slow and steady. “yeah…” he said, rather clumsily on his part, “yeah, alright.” reina had asked for a second chance, and miles gave it. but the truth was, he had forgiven everything she’s done and everything she could do long before that night. it seemed it was only himself that was exempted from his own pardon. “engaging with psychopaths is sort of an occupational hazard. so maybe next time just…” he trailed off, licking his lips as he searched for the proper words. for someone who has been in the business for such a long time, they seemed to have a knack for treading around the subject, “have my back reina. that’s protection enough.”

[miles-leszczynski]

         a date with a cold beer and a box of pizza from the pizzeria around the block was what miles would have done on that night had his former life still been a thing of reality. not walking around in a suit that probably costs more than three months worth of rent on his shitty vegas apartment, if not more. he was acutely aware of the faces that graced the hotel’s ballroom, and the history behind the eyes of each one. he was also keenly aware of the weight of the pistol pressed against his chest, hidden expertly in the line of his suit as to avoid evoking any suspicions. precautions.

miles did not anticipate the brown hair, elaborately curled and styled to compete against the best dressed. but unlike her aristocratic counterparts, she was not here to indulge in gossip and scandals, she was here for other reasons. and so was he.

with a sigh and a jerk of his head, knocking back the last few drops of amber liquid that he had been nursing, miles detached himself from his own corner dedicated to observing the night’s scene and forced himself through the crowd of expensive suits and dresses. it took a moment to find her again, and when he does, he’s already nearly at her side. quickly closing the gap between them with one hand on her waist and the other holding her hand, he elected to dismiss her question for his own, one that cut straight to the point. “what the hell are you doing here?” His words came in a whisper, his lips barely moving. And she even had the nerve to tease him, using his own practise against him. detective, she called him. miles gritted his teeth, jaw clenching and muscles rolling. his fingers instinctively tightened on her waist as she batted her lashed and laced her arm around his neck. “whatever it is you’re thinking of doing reina, it’s not a good idea.”

@miles-leszczynski 

He was plain in sight. The man who Reina had to take down before he did her. For the majority of the night, Reina had maintained a great distance between them so he would be none the wiser of her presence here. That, and a free dye of her hair also helped, even if it was a small change. Even though he had been hunting her down, Reina knew that Isaac didn’t even know what she looked like, the CCTV camera from the other night showing nothing more but black locks - not even a face. She had the upper hand. As he made way through the crowd towards a particularly quiet area, Reina decided that now was her chance. She would weave through the crowd and take out her victim, no hit man necessary. A push here, a slide there, she wanted to keep Isaac in sight. She was just about to close the gap and follow Isaac into that private room when her wrist was grabbed and she was pulled into the body of a stranger so forcefully that her breath hitched up into her throat. Not a stranger after all - Miles.

The last time they had seen one another she had annoyed him so intensely that the two of them refused to speak with one another. She could understand it. She had lied to him, put herself in harms way despite his urges for her to stop and she had refused to back down from a fight. Despite that anger, despite their argument, being so dangerously close to him now had swept away the apprehension she felt towards him. If anything, it was good to see him. “Fancy seeing you here… Does this mean we’re friends again?” She asked in a somewhat playful manner before tilting her head at him, “For a guy who is supposed to be hell bent on killing me as assigned, you’re not doing a great job, unless this is one of your steps. Step one: Stalk. Step two: grab her. Step three: Kill.” It was a joke, one in poor taste but a joke, nonetheless. Her hands moved up his shoulders, wrapping around his neck, loosely, as her eyes admired her new view, “In any case, you look handsome, detective.”

[miles-leszczynski]

↳ THE CORLEONE FAMIGLIE FOUNDATION CHARITY GALA.

[miles-leszczynski]

         his rehearsed words were competing with the noise of the relentless assault of his heart on his ribcage as miles ascended the staircase of the apartment building. his forehead was stitched and held together with a small bandaid; a new addition to the plethora of scars that seemed to perpetually adorn his body. fortunately for him, this one was relatively well hidden behind a mop of dark hair. the apparentness of his other injuries were not so easily hid. the fresh wounds made its complaint known as miles took the stairs two at a time, forcing a wince out of him every so often from the pain that proved to be more of a source of annoyance than any actual discomfort. forget about isaac she said, and in his trust he did. apparently that was his mistake.

miles knocked (although a good beating would have been a more accurate descriptor) on the door and waited. he was breathing deeply trying to calm the heat that had entered his face. he was angry, and worried, and betrayed; a hot pot of emotions that threatened to boil over at any given trigger. that is until the door opened and he saw the woman standing behind the threshold. his breath got caught in his throat. “jesus reina...” her clothes were loose fitted, but he could still see the bandages beneath the worn cotton. there were dark circles under her eyes and evidence of violence that peppered her skin and traced the length of her neck to form a handprint served as a reminder of the previous night’s incident. 

he wanted to reach out, to pull her into his arms and to just hold her, but his sympathies were quickly pushed aside for more pressing concerns. he saw a knife on the nearby counter. he turned back to her, that same passion simmering beneath a very thin veil of composure that was on the verge of spilling. “why? i told you that he is dangerous. i told you to keep your head down, that i was handling it. he could’ve kil—” he couldn’t even bring himself to say the word. “why reina? for once, why couldn’t you just do as you’re told?!”

human. | miles & reina

@miles-leszczynski

Even a day later and she could still smell it. Whether it was her own or Sam’s, Reina didn’t even know any more - but blood seemed to linger far longer than even a tattoo could achieve. She had kept herself in bed for the majority of the day, hoping that sleep would swallow her whole and she could be forgotten to the world - even if just for a little while. But she had come to learn that life wasn’t at all that kind and try as she might - sleep would not comfort her anymore.

By the time she did get up, it was evening - night in fact. She grimaced at the ache that her body felt from the mayhem that she had found herself in over the last couple of days and went to the bathroom, undressed and stepped into the shower. The water was hot against her skin but relaxing until her eyes opened and she noticed the little droplets of blood that fell from her skin. When she stepped out, her eyes caught hold of a mirror, misty from the hot shower but just visible enough to show off the finger print bruises that marked her neck. What a sight she was.

But Reina pressed on. Got herself dressed into something comfortable, replaced bandages and took back some medicine with a shot of vodka (what a bad combination…) and only bothered to towel dry her hair. When she heard a knock at the door, the woman tensed up. She knew that her roommate wasn’t going to be back for another couple of hours and wasn’t expecting any visitors. So, like her weapon from just the day before, her fingers curled around a knife as she crept towards the front door and spying through the peep hole.

Miles. Right. She should have expected that but how the hell was she going to explain the fact that she was in a worser state than when he had last seen her? She sighed and put the knife down, unlocking and unchaining the door before opening it up for him.

[miles-leszczynski]

reina-chen:

Reina was beginning to realise something: she had a bad habit. A habit where instead of responding, she said nothing. For a woman who seemed to be so outspoken in the past and unapologetic when it came to her very being, she found that silence had become a valid response. Like Miles, who was afraid to look her in the eye and confront the man that he had become, Reina avoided almost everything. She avoided talking to Kieran about whatever situation they had gotten themselves into due to the fact that Reina couldn’t pull her feelings from the man before her. Yet, when faced with Miles - she did the exact same thing. She didn’t talk about his loyalty for her, nor did she question why her value of him was so important in his mind. Why? Why was she so fearful of opening up that conversation?

She didn’t say anything.

Merely listened.

Processed.

And nodded. 

A bad habit. 

She was guilty of the same crimes that she had accused Miles of and that was his distance. Perhaps she distanced herself because that as what she thought was best and yet, here he was - tending to her like it was nothing, Hadn’t she been the one who had pointed out that he was bleeding? How did they manage to reverse their roles? Reina - with all her pride - didn’t want this to be a common thing. Miles didn’t have to protect her all the time and that was why, any plans of Isaac was simply going to be a solo operation, nothing to concern himself with. 

But if there was one thing that she had been honest about it was that she did in fact trust him, even if he didn’t understand it. She didn’t either. There was just something about their situation, their partnership, that allowed Reina to look pass the bad and accept the good. However, perhaps it was that ‘bad’ that also held her back from truly committing to him. Regardless, she nodded her head at his offer to take her home and gave a slight smile. Taking his hand, she hopped off the stool and once again, found herself doing the exact same thing as before: saying nothing. 

        END.

rose tinted glasses | miles & reina

[miles-leszczynski]

reina-chen:

Once again, Reina felt as though she had made the wrong move. That Miles didn’t want to be touched - nor did he want her to reach out to him, like he had been avoiding doing with her. But Reina couldn’t do that. She couldn’t just mask how she felt and if she did, she was truly bad at it. There wasn’t a filter that she could use to disguise the true nature of what she felt, even if she tried her best to not let it show. So after that touch, Reina had every indication to take back her hand and continue as their version of ‘normalcy’ which was simply a lie that they continued to play.

Instead, she felt her hand be taken as he pulled up a stool. Her eyes fell on their hands, watching as he cleaned the wounds that lingered on her skin and kept her eyes there until Miles spoke again. When she heard him, her eyes flickered back up, saying nothing - merely listening. She understood that. Understood that Jacob couldn’t be trusted and it would have been a foolish move if they were to let him go but that didn’t mean that she could just shut off her humanity for the sake of protecting herself. There was an element of selfishness in that thought - even if the man certainly didn’t give one ounce of a fuck about her well being. A feeling that she had grown accustomed to over the years. She had already told Miles about her experiences growing up, the people in her life that cared more for her body than what was going on in her mind… For Reina, it had become second nature to her that she was able to deflect with a sarcastic comment or two - this was different. Tonight, she had snapped and shaped into someone that she barely even recognised and for the first time, she seemed to understand what Miles had said when he admitted to her that the worst part of feeling that was liking it. Because for once - there was a force for power - and she held that in her hands with every blow to Jacob’s face. What she didn’t anticipate was the heavy protection he had for her tonight. Sure, they were friends and she would be ignorant to believe that there wasn’t something just below the surface of that friendship… But he didn’t need to turn into someone unrecognisable for her protection - she wouldn’t ever ask for that.

“It wasn’t like he was wrong though.” Reina mumbled. Her eyes fell back on her hand, analysing the work that he was doing as she spoke, “I’m pretty sure if I was back there… I would have been married by now - If I wasn’t totally against just going along with shit, that is. Would have just been totally easier if I were just… Content with all of that. Just like it would be easier to just hand me over, get the money… You’d be set for life.” It was a sad thought, the price on her head that motivated people to hunt her down. 

“Yeah?” She wondered, “Is that why you couldn’t look at me then?” Reina started, looking up at him now, “Because you’re not sorry? Because it’s my understanding that people who don’t feel remorse are pretty comfortable with looking a person in the eye and you… You couldn’t look at me once.” That was one of the primary things that Reina had to let out. The fact that although Miles was so skilled and methodical with his work, it was as though he still wanted to keep Reina behind the glass, pretend that he could walk two roads and that wasn’t the case anymore. “I know you wanted me to see that things are different, that you are different and I’ve seen it. You’re right. We’re different.”

Pausing as his medical assistance moved over to her face, Reina waited as he cleaned her lip, her cheek and grimaced when the damp towel fell over her skin, the stinging sensation clearly making her uncomfortable.  “I’m fine. Really.” Perhaps that was because she had already endured worse that now, pain was easier to handle. “I still trust you.” She revealed finally, saying the words before she buried that down and began to believe the lie that would no doubt follow if she were to repress this confession. It was wrong. Wrong of her to trust especially after all that she had seen but she’d be lying otherwise. “You might do some fucked up shit but this whole thing is fucked up. I can’t pretend like the life I lead is normal because it isn’t. All I know is you went out of your way to help me in the most fucking reckless and stupidest of ways which is crazy and not worth the trouble… and you have been… Even when you thought I was dead. How can I not trust that?”

                   “well he is wrong.” miles’ words were firm, a stark contrast to the gentleness of his hands, one that never faltered, as it held hers. “you’re not back there reina, you got out. and i would never give you up. never. not for anything.” a lot of things has changed since vegas. a great deal of qualities that made miles leszczynski good and just was stripped from him along with his beliefs, his moral code, his lifestyle and others beyond counting. his loyalty remained one of the few things that would not be corrupted by the grey area that he lived in now. should a day comes where he would ever give his loyalty up will be the day that miles is truely lost. today was not that day. 

reina was right. since learning of her existence that night at the club miles had been treading a very fine line between who he was and who he wanted to be, for her. all while knowing full well that no good could ever come with the desire to change for someone else, still it could not be helped. “do not make the mistake of thinking i feel remorse for that scumbag reina because i don’t, and if given the choice, i would do everything again without hesitation. i'm not sorry for what i did. i'm only sorry that you had to be there to see it truth is, i couldn't bring myself to look at you because i was afraid. i was afraid that you would look at me-- see who i am now, and not see the same worth that you used to.” there was a moment of hesitation as miles searched carefully for the words to articulate his thoughts. even then he feared that it was still insufficient. “i guess, a small selfish part of me still wanted to believe that the detective from vegas still lives in here somewhere. that you being alive, being here again, might somehow…” he trailed off. it didn’t work that way. it was an impossible thing to expect someone else to bring back to life a part of yourself that you already killed and buried. it was a selfish and delusional thing to place that expectation on anyone. it was not their job, neither was it in their power and it did him no good to fool himself into believing otherwise. he knew that now, and miles accepted that knowledge with a small smile, “right. we are different.”

he neither approved nor disapproved of her bold proclamation of trust, but neither would he insult her by saying that she was wrong or that she was making a mistake by putting her trust in him. miles had promised her transparency and he was true to his words. reina saw what he did, what he can do, whatever decision she made now was of her own choosing, there was little else he could do but to accept who he was now and hope that she does the same. 

miles sat back on the stool, holding her gaze as if waiting to see her resolution waver under doubt. it didn’t. “alright,” he said. then he got up from his stool, threw the bloodied cloth into the sink, ran the faucet over it, dried his hands and extended it to her in an offer to help her off the stool. “come on, it’s been a long night. i'll drive you home.”

rose tinted glasses | miles & reina

[miles-leszczynski]

                       there was a time where an injuries like this would have miles standing with a gauze in one hand, a disinfectant in the other and a confused look on his face. where was he supposed to even start? would be his only thought, before any further efforts is quickly dismissed with a sigh as he promptly reaches for his phone to dial a trusted number that he has since remembered by heart. he couldn’t remember the last time that he has spoken to mary. with practised hands miles began the process of clearing out any obstructions, applying pressure to stop the bleeding, and once that was achieved he began cleaning and dressing. scalp wounds were a little more difficult to dress, being where it was, but miles’ had dealt with worse and the wound was not as deep as the bleeding would have otherwise suggested. he could only imagine what mary had to say about his new occupation, although his new found proficiency in wound dressing and attendance was something to be commended on if nothing else. there was no photographs of mary in this house, there was no photographs of anyone at all in the house.

you’re disgusting. reina’s words pierced him more than any physical assault could. it forced every muscle to go rigid, but he disputed none of it. if anything his silence was a sort of concurrence to her words and he when on, continuing to tend the wound with the same methodical efficiency earlier in the bar, weathering the onslaught of words without compliant or rebuke. cruel. he twisted a sprig of hair and crossed the sprig over the cut. you’re evil. tied up the spring with a thread to keep it in place. just a monster. and repeat, until all the cuts were closed over. it’d need to be regularly undressed, cleaned and dressed again, but that shouldn’t be hardship. he wasn’t mad. he wasn’t resentful. he wasn’t even sure if ‘hurt’ would have been the right word for it. just a silent acceptance of the truth. fact is, miles had already come to terms with that darkness that existed in him and now reina was learning for herself what that darkness involved. he had just finished the last of the cuts and was in the process of returning her hair to its usual place when he felt warmth on his wrist. he looked at the hand and then up at the gaze that followed. the outcome would have been the same. 

miles’ eyes fell back on her hands; on the bruised and bloodied knuckles. without a word, he pulled up a stool and began working on the site, his fingers ever so gentle as he began cleaning the wounds. “jacob needed to be stopped. he was a liability. keeping him alive means risking him going to eadric or rush or a rival. either way, let him walk and reina chen would be alive to the world again. it needed to be done; a necessity.” there was silence as he began wrapping her the bandages around her hand. 

“he also threatened you.” his voice was suddenly hoarse, but he continued. “he looked at you like were a piece of meat. baited you in front of me, and i just…” the words haunted him. i’m sure the boss will even let you marry the girl if you’re lucky. be part of the family. to think that he even considered the deal was the worst part. for all his talk of game, miles had wanted all of that once. to settle down and get married, to start a family, to be there to teach his son to ride a bike or attend his daughter’s dance recital, to worry about bills and the loan on the house, to grow old and look back wistfully on his misspent youth but that’s okay because all his mistake had led him to his wife and their life together. till death do them part. once upon a time he could even see that with reina. it was only a thought, a fleeting thing that came one second and gone the next, but it had existed. for jacob to abuse that— to abuse her, even if it was just with a look or a word. it made him sick. regardless of what opinion she may have formed of him, miles didn’t kill for sport, and he doesn’t take pleasure in inflicting pain. there was a reason for everything he did, everything planned and executed with precision. a job. jacob was different. jacob was personal. “it wasn’t part of the plan, but i’m not sorry.” 

finishing with the dressing on her hands, miles helped himself to more antiseptics as he graduated to the more superficial cuts on her face. the best he could do for the cut lip was just to clean the blood, there were two butterfly bandages on the cut on her cheek, but only time and rest could heal the bruise beneath. drawing a warm damp towel over her cheek, the blood stains transferred from her skin to the towel, leaving a ghastly red colour on the white cloth. his brows pinched in concentration, always careful not to put more pressure on the wounds than he needed to, “tell me if i’m hurting you.”

rose tinted glasses | miles & reina

[miles-leszczynski]

                        “so are you,” was his reply. although the subject of isaac was dismissed by reina, miles had a feeling that the conversation was far from over, her silence made sure of that. then again, they weren’t going to get anywhere by sitting in the car either. “i’ve got some first aid back at my place, it’ll be quicker to go there.” begrudgingly, he reached for the keys and turned on the ignition before promptly pulling out of the parking lot, leaving the silent bar behind. it was as if they were never there at all.

with its high profile criminal patrons, it was considered a sort of security measure to have the bar located near the outskirts of the city. away from authority or anyone else who didn’t need to be there. miles’ own house was further still, hidden among the walls of the californian redwood, nestled further up in the cradles of the coastal hills. it was not a building one simply stumbled on by accident. with this safe guard in mind, the image of a fortified homestead usually came to mind when one thought of where miles now lived, not the architectural art piece that was made almost entirely out of glass that granted its beholders a clear view into the kitchen and living space upon pulling into the driveway.

it was a large house, much too large for one man to live in, it was worse when he hardly spent anytime in it, save to retire to when he needed to lick his wounds or find a bed to sleep in. this was what a life of crime had afforded him: luxury. it was a sick joke that lent a bitter taste to his usual morning coffee. the impressive exterior was further complimented by the interior design. every colour, texture, lighting, everything fitted and served the overall aesthetic of the house. of course, someone else was paid handsomely to make sure that it did. but unlike the succulent plants (all tagged with a label that read their names) that littered the countertop of his previous apartment, or the iron double that doubled as a coffee table, or the pile of books, from high school and police academy both, that occupied almost every visible corner, this house did not read home. it was a big house. it was a very nice house, but it was not home. 

“help yourself to the couch, or anything in the fridge,” he said, already beginning to ascend the stairs to where he stashed his first aid collection, of which he had no shortage. he returned moments later with a white box. under the stark light of the kitchen he began unpacking: bandages, disinfecting agents, and an assortment of other tools one would perhaps not think to find in a first aid kit, a hospital maybe, but definitely not your average kit. “your head's still bleeding.” his voice was soft, but on the account of how quiet the house was and the open space, he didn’t need to raise his voice for it to carry. “let me take a look.”

rose tinted glasses | miles & reina

[miles-leszczynski]

reina-chen:

A talk later wasn’t good enough. In Reina’s mind, she had already decided what she would be doing next. That was the plan that she was going for next, with or without Miles’ permission. It just didn’t have to be something that she told him right now. There was a risk in this plan, one that potentially could go south if Isaac found a better deal that one that she could offer him but Reina didn’t care. This was something that she had to do and she also didn’t want a notorious hitman turning up and wrecking havoc on the place. She didn’t want to fight him, she just wanted to talk. That being said, she also didn’t know the true connections that Miles had with Isaac but that was a discovery for another time.

When Miles approached Jacob again, urging him for the name of the rat, Reina turned away, her features scrunching up in clear discomfort at the sound of total agony and despair that projected from Jacob’s lips. She wanted to tell him to stop, that he’d had enough yet when Jacob finally gave up his defence, Reina thought that would have been it. Instead, the echo of a gun shot followed his heaving breaths and Reina whipped round to find Jacob’s head bent over uncomfortably - this time - with his head gapping with a deep wound. Her hand came up to her mouth as the red liquid poured from his skull and she looked away again. She could have retched at the sight of all of this. Jacob’s hand, his knee cap, his face - damaged by her own hands, his body dripping in sweat. She wanted to yell at Miles, tell him that was unnecessary and tell him that they could have left him there to sort himself out… But in the back of Reina’s mind, she also knew that couldn’t have been possible. That a dead man could tell no tales and it was for their own protection. It was those thoughts, the ones that made her question what kind of fucking person she had become… That stopped her from reaching to that conclusion. A silent reminder that not everything is all black and white. Good and evil… Such a fine line.

Once again, as she heard her companion speak, Reina gave her attention. She looked up at him, yet his eyes didn’t so much as look in her general direction as he went on. Embarrassment? Shame? Either way, Reina didn’t know if she could open her mouth right now without screaming those initial thoughts when Jacob had been shot. She knew what she was getting herself into, yes. But seeing it for herself - that was a whole different story. Without so much as a confirmation to what she was doing, Reina turned and walked up the basement stairs and to the main floor. The smoke had since faded from the flooring, making the bodies that Miles had dropped, visible to the eye. The smell of warm, sticky blood, filling her nostrils and producing that queasy feeling that didn’t seem to want to go away. She could taste her own blood on her tongue and as she reached out for the door handle, Reina was one again reminded of Jacob’s blood on her skin.

That did it.

With the cool air now brushing against her cheeks, she set off in a power walk, away from the scene - a nearby park where she doubled over and retched up her guts, so powerful that she fell to her knees, hands curling into the dry dirt of the park where she continued to be sick until everything in her stomach had passed, bile included. To a pass byer, she was just another drunk teenager who didn’t know how to handle her liquor. Tomorrow the vomit would just be a reminder of how foolish some young people were - if only that was the case.

As time passed, Miles still inside cleaning up, Reina returned back to the car, opened up the passenger side and pulled her gun out of her pocket. A bloodied grip that she uncurled and put back into her bag before picking out a water bottle. She took a swig from the contents, cleaning out her mouth of the disgusting taste before spitting it outside and then attempted to wipe off the now dry blood from her knuckles, revealing the cuts and bruises that her assault had caused herself. When that was done, Reina closed the door behind her and waited. Her mind was lost in the events that had unfolded that night and as her body began to relax, she began to truly feel the protest her body had against the pain she felt. She reached a hand up to her cheek, sensitive to the touch and was already beginning to swell. Fingers moved to her nose and when she brought her fingers away, they were stained red. She jutted her tongue out over her lip, the corner coppery - a sign of its splitting, however small. The worst though, was the back of her head. Reina reached back her hair sticky and even found a bloodied piece of glass that had wrapped around her locks. Fingers gently fell the wound and once again, blood was present.

Reina sighed and reached into her bag again and pulled out a bottle of pills. Pain relief from her shooting. Strong as hell. She had stopped taking them about two months ago after she felt as though her pain had subsided. Now, however, was a different matter. Reina unscrewed the cap, taking back two or three - who fucking cared? And swallowed them raw. Her eyes fell on the road as she waited for Miles to return.

When he finally did, Reina was still trying to get her head around things. She was in pain, but the relief had taking the edge off since. She waited for him to round to the driver’s seat, eyes still faced forward and looking at nothing in particular - just not acknowledging the presence that was beside her. 

                          miles watched her back as it retreated up the basement steps. her footsteps growing more distant until it faded away completely leaving him to the silence of his breath and the buzzing of the basement light as it threatened to blow out.  what had he expected? for her to stay back and help clean up the bloody mess he left behind? had he been given the choice she wouldn’t even be here tonight. trust. that was what he wanted, yet looking down at his bloodied hands he wasn’t sure if such a thing existed anymore. he wondered if such a thing even existed in the first place. as the rest of his tools were stowed away in the black duffel he began wiping his hands. yet here’s a spot. he remembered reading once in his english class. he couldn’t have been older than sixteen. out, damned spot! out, i say! the black cloth ran over his fingers. the worst of it had been cleaned but there was still a slight stain; a ghostly reminder of the crime that had been committed. give me your hand. what’s done cannot be undone. 

his mind went blank after that and miles went on to do what he was paid to do. what he did best. efficiently and methodical. make a plan. stick to the plan. jacob was returned to the bar, hidden carefully in the mass of bodies that fell haphazardly on top of one another. some breathing. some still. the basement looked as if no one had even laid a foot there by the time miles had closed the door behind him. there were no cameras to trace the blame back to him and the knife that was used on jacob was endowed to one of the names on miles’ list. no finger prints to prove that miles had even touched it. the pistol he used was traded for another one of similar model. no bullet to prove that miles was at the scene at all. he knew what the police report would read. rival gangs doing what they do best. not much investigation would go into the case, not really. they were all criminals, all of them wanted by the law. you're not the law, he could hear detective leszczynski say and miles knew what he would say back: you’re not a detective anymore.

miles could see reina’s silhouette in the passenger seat as he returned the duffel into the boot of the car, together with the plastic sheet. he took a fair beating on his own and his injuries made itself known as he let himself into the driver’s seat. she didn’t so much as spare a glance at him and he didn’t blame her. truth was, he wasn’t sure if even he could look at himself, but they couldn’t sit in indefinite silence either. from the corner of his eye he could see the bottle in her hand. she was hurt-- worse, she was in pain. he thought to reach out, and he started to, but just as he did, the nearby streetlamp shed light onto his skin and he hesitated. the red stains looked ghastly in the pale white light. what’s done cannot be undone. miles withdrew his hand and occupied it with the steering wheel; clenching and then unclenching the worn leather, repeating the motion again and again as he watched the road, struggling for something to say.

“you can’t make a deal with isaac, reina. not him.” was the first thing to come out of his mouth. perhaps he could have been a little more delicate after what had just transpired between them, but it needed to be said. she needed to hear it. “he’s not a guy that you can just reason with. i know him, he’s paid me to... to do what i do-- but that isn’t to say that he doesn’t already do a lot of it on his own. that's where he gets his kicks, i’ve seen it. he’s dangerous, but worst of all he’s too unpredictable, and in this line of work unpredictable is what gets you killed.”

rose tinted glasses | miles & reina

[miles-leszczynski]

reina-chen:

The fierceness in his voice didn’t go unnoticed and she might’ve persuaded him otherwise if it wasn’t for the fact that Reina wasn’t all too concerned about the well being of Jacob’s well being. Instead, she merely nodded and looked down at the piece of paper, ready to write whatever came out of Jacob’s mouth. And talk, he did. More than Reina thought and when all had been done, she felt Miles’ presence beside her once again and she looked up at Jacob, listening to her companion all the while. “Some.” She answered, looking round to look at him now, Isaac rings a bell. I wouldn’t piss him off though. His work along the west coast is pretty heavy, I think he’s already got a bit of rep for a fucking psychopath. He don’t think he and Rush get along, but if he’s been mentioned…” She trailed off in thought, speaking a little louder to address Jacob, “Did Rush and Eadric cut a deal with Isaac?” Jacob hung his head though nodded his head a fraction, “Was to look for you.” “And does Isaac think that I’m dead?” She asked now and Jacob looked up, sparing a glance at Miles as if in caution before his eyes flickered over to her, “They don’t talk much. Eadric asked for compliance. Isaac said he’d oblige and return you home. Other than that, they don’t communicate.” 

Reina nodded her head, turning around to face Miles now, lowering her voice once again, “I could make a deal with him. Ask him to work towards getting rid of Eadric and give him a good cut. Hell, he can fucking have it if he wants, as long as I get a good deal. I have no interest in becoming a mob boss and he has people. A lot of people who, with my help, can do the work for us. I’d say that’s our next best bet, Miles.”

She looked back at Jacob now who hung his head low again, “We’re done here.”

               the name isaac didn’t just ring a bell. if anything, miles knew it well. much of his own fortune was owed to isaac and the jobs that miles had done for him; the people that he was hired to kill for him. the mobster’s reputation for violence and bloodshed was not news to miles, in fact, if it wasn’t for the influence of his brother (or someone miles liked to think of as the brain to his sibling’s brawn), he had no doubt that isaac would have done much of the killing work himself. while he dealt in efficiency and discretion, isaac killed for the enjoyment of it and his work, or the few that miles had witness, was a credit to his…enthusiasm. “reina…” miles began, but his voice fell away as reina turned to address their present company. he remained silent throughout the rest of her interrogation, consumed in his own thoughts. he was only pulled away from them when she turned to him again. he wanted to say that it was not a good idea. isaac was not anyone you wanted to affiliate with and his conscience was not troubled by the crimes he committed against his past ‘partners’. isaac was a man of a very simple nature, and that was to kill whenever it pleased him. he was only so cooperative during most negotiations and parleys due to much of his brother’s influence, but even that could only go so far. but miles couldn’t discuss that now. in front of jacob they needed to present a united front. “we’ll talk more about it later.” it neither disputed her, nor did it support. it was the safest thing he could say at that moment.

miles turned to jacob. he wore the face of dejected man who just played his last card and knew that he lost. his breathing was still laboured and he looked like he was in pain. his sympathies almost went out to him. “almost.” he said, both to reina and to himself. then he pressed his fist down on jacob’s sternum, drawing a steady cry out from gritted teeth. “you said there was a rat. i want a name.” the bloodied man didn’t answer with a name, only another cry as more pressure was applied to his chest. this was taking too long. miles took out the knife. he didn’t go for the hand this time. this time he went for the kneecap. “god help me i will pop your damn knee off. give me a name.” jacob turned purple as he struggled to catch a breath through a fractured sternum, the assault on his solar plexus and the knife in his knee. “a name. now.” the knife twisted. the cry turned into a choked howl. “a name!” the howl slowly formed around a name and then a gurgling string of information, what he looked like, where he was last scene and then a plea to for him to stop. miles pulled the knife out. seconds after the bloodied man let out a relieved breath, a gun shot echoed throughout the small basement and jacob’s head slumped forward. miles shoved the smoking gun back into his holster. “now we’re done.” 

he returned to the black bag without so much of a glance in reina’s direction, taking out a black cloth to clean the red off his blade before starting to return the rest of his tools to its home in the duffel. “i need to clean up. there can’t be anything left here that could be traced back to us. wait in the car if you’d like.”

rose tinted glasses | miles & reina

[miles-leszczynski]

thewildestzaraausten:

“Would you prefer sexy?” Zara asked as she smirked at Miles. “Because you are and I could call you that rather than adorable if that is really want you want, babe. I”m just here to please,” Zara teased.

“Am I really that predictable?” Zara questioned. “I thought I could sense some trouble in you, babe. Troubled souls tend to find each other and look at us,” she said, grinning after listening to the antics that Miles used to pull. “That is nice that she was good about all the trouble you caused. Makes it easier to pull another prank but you can also laugh about it together then and now. My parents were not that sort,��� she continued. “Oh babe,” Zara said as she caught sight of the time. “I’ve got to meet with a client in about twenty so I should be off but since we are about to be the best of friends I’ll write down my number and you better write down yours,” she said as she searched for a pen or marker in her bag so she could jot down her mobile number. “You know I’ll have ways of finding it out and finding you if you don’t.”

            somehow that didn’t make miles feel any better, but her smirk was enough for him to adopt one of his own. he answered her with silence as she went on about how they were both troubled souls, as if that was something to be glad about sharing with someone, before going on some more about her parents’ lack of understanding. he wasn’t sure if there was much to say, or whether if anything needed to be said at all. she didn’t seem particularly cut up about it either.

miles watched with mild curiosity as she scribbled a string of numbers on a piece of napkin and passed it over; still adamant about this supposed friendship. he weighed his options and the consequences of outright refusal, but finally settled on grabbing another piece of napkin, scribbling down a series of number and passed it over to her. “i waited with bated breath.”  it was the number of an old woman, and an enthusiastic talker, he had memorised from an old case back when he was still a detective in vegas. but zara didn’t know that.

[miles-leszczynski]

thewildestzaraausten:

“That is kinda adorable,” Zara smirked. “I don’t know the language enough to fault you but someone who speaks and knows the language might,” she teased. “I am going to get you to say something for me at least once, babe. Just watch me.”

“Of course they found out. They always seem to know, don’t they?” Zara asked. “The people who don’t find out are the parents who are cool and relaxed about their kids drinking at home which my parents aren’t at all. They forbid me, tried to lock up their liquor cabinet, and lectured me but it didn’t stop me. It made me get a bit more creative,” she smirked. “Did you cause a lot of trouble growing up, Miles?”

           “adorable. thanks. that’s really what every man wants to hear, that he’s adorable.” he said, though his grin showed that he meant no real offence by it. though he merely acknowledged her tenacity with a “hmm,” as he took hid another grin behind the coffee mug he brought up to his lips 

“i had a feeling,” he said. if the woman was so keen to get him to speak in his native tongue, her resilience had to get its start from somewhere. devising ways to break into her parents’ liquor cabinet seemed as good a start as any. “for my grandma, yeah. i used to get into trouble all the time for these stupid pranks i pulled at school. i mean they’re all harmless-- mostly, but...well, let’s just say not a lot of teachers were a fan of my handiwork. i’m pretty sure most of the money she spent on gas was to drive up to the principal’s office to get an earful of whatever it was i did wrong.” he chuckled fondly at the memory. “she was always good about it though.”

[miles-leszczynski]

reina-chen:

The use of Robin’s former name had left his lips once again and Reina would have pointed it out if it wasn’t for the fact that she didn’t necessarily want to see a detached finger. Instead, she kept her eyes on the two of them, fingernails digging into her palms as she attempted to maintain a steadiness in her nerves yet the curling of her hands did little to stop them trembling, only shielded them for a moment. Jacob seemed irritated by Miles, no doubt he was and probably trying to rack his brain with addresses that Eadric or his men might be. 

Once Eadric’s hand had been returned to him for a brief moment, he held it, examined the damage even though he knew that there was a gaping hole in it, while Miles approached her. She half expected him to not look at her again. To simply walk pass and pretend that she didn’t exist but instead, he stopped, placed the stationary in her open hand and it took everything in Reina to not flinch away. That wasn’t because of Miles. It was because the idea of being touched right now was awful. Instead however, she willed her body to relax a fraction and by doing so, encouraged the throbbing sensation of her injuries to begin. Her cheek ached, the back of her head, sore - her knuckles, bruised. It was tiring, to say the least. She listened to Miles, noting that he thought that this was a lot to take in - that the information was what was angering her, making her tremble with extreme discomfort. She let out a slight scoff of amusement though there was no humour behind it and she shook her head, “Believe me. That is not what has me so pissed.” She wasn’t going to tell him but the conversation had presented itself, so, why lie? Finally, the woman looked up at him, battered and bruised as she met his eyes, speaking as a simple matter of fact, calmly, even, “He was going to rape me. I can take glass to the back of my head or a metal grip to my face but that?” She shook her head and let out a sigh. She looked down at their hands for a moment yet noticing the blood on her hands, she vaguely remembered the time she had in her car, trying to wipe off a speck of either Terry’s or Miles’ blood off her steeling wheel… And she pulled away, looking back up to him again, “Lets just get this over with, okay? I’m not… Mad at you or anything, I’m sorry - didn’t mean to snap.” She said quietly before gesturing back to Jacob, deciding it was best to just continue.

Jacob had to resist a roll of his eyes at Miles’ taunt and let out another breath, “I only know two guys for certain. Others are just rumours and a hunch. Like I said - been out for a while. They’d be fucking idiots to stay in one place for too long.”

               the word was a trigger in and of itself, fuelling the fire in his chest. the thought alone enough to make his entire body go rigid with hatred he wouldn’t have believed himself capable of since that night at the hospital. her eyes drifted downward but it was not their hands that she was seeing. reina’s eyes had a faraway look about them. an old memory resurfacing to the forefront of her mind. and then she pulled away, and miles had a feeling in his gut that said memory may have been about him. he did nothing to stop her from moving away and responded by withdrawing his own hands back to his side. “no, don’t apologise.” it was all he said, but the venom in his voice and the fierceness in his eyes implied more than that, it was a silent promise. a promise that jacob wasn’t going to be touching her or anyone else. not if he had anything to do with it.

“i didn’t asking you whether they’d stay in the one place, i asked you who and where they are. you concern yourself with getting me names and addresses and i’ll worry about the rumours. and you better tell me straight because if i find out that your information is bullshit, your hand isn’t going to be the only thing i put a hole in.” he pulled out the knife, still gleaming red from the contents of jacob’s hand. “start yapping.”

and he did. a series of names and addresses ran from his mouth, some of them were familiar, men and women he heard of in passing though never though much to pursue, others were noted on the basis of blind faith. regardless, miles kept his face passive and his knife visible. it was a slow process with jacob taking several pauses to try and catch his breath or to think more carefully about whose name he was about to say next, in time the stream of names and addresses slowed and eventually ceased altogether. at this point jacob had gone a little pale, whether from the pain of a fractured sternum or blood loss miles couldn’t tell, neither did he care. he gave jacob a pointed look before retiring from his spot by the shadows and started back to reina’s side. his eyes skimmed over the names and addresses listed on the piece of paper and tried to formulate some sort of image in his mind’s eye. “i trust that bastard about as far as i can throw him. but you-- you, i trust.” he turned his eyes up to her, and his voice dropped back down to a whisper that only she could catch. “do you think there’s any truth to whatever he’s saying? any names that are familiar to you?”

rose tinted glasses | miles & reina

[miles-leszczynski]

reina-chen:

Miles seemed to have a call for more violence, less talk, though at the same time, it wasn’t as though she could blame him. If this was the way he was going to play it, then Jacob had disrespected him and he had been warned. Another hit to his body wasn’t surprising to Reina, what made her look away was the knife through the hand. To that, she flinched, her features, contorting in disgust as she turned away, squeezing her eyes shut as if the gesture would prevent the sound of excruciating pain puncture her ears. Alas, she was unsuccessful in that department. “Miles…” She said quietly as he threatened Jacob to not so much as blink in her direction. He didn’t have to do that. Turn into a total monster because an asshole said a few nasty things to her. Sure, if this were another job where she wasn’t even around, it would be different. But this whole situation had occurred because of what Eadric had done to her and Reina certainly didn’t want Miles to feel as though he had to protect and do her dirty work for her.

She knew now that this was the man that he was scared of showing her, the torturous, unforgiving man who became so consumed by anger and power that he’d cut a man wide open for just breathing in the wrong way. She hoped that her voice at least carried that message across to him, Jacob being in too much agonising pain to even register the silent plea.

Even within the pain that he was no doubt suffering in, Jacob managed to eventually, calm his breathing, albeit, poorly. The question brought Reina back to attention as her eyes flickered back up at them and Jacob, who, upon instruction, didn’t look at her again. “How the fuck should I know?” He growled through gritted teeth, “There’s a reason why his name and face isn’t plastered on every newspaper, nor his fucking brother they name Rush. They’re ghosts. I might’ve been part of Ed’s guys but I was only looking for cash -” He sucked in breath through his teeth against the excruciating pain,  “Fuck loyalty, when they started going on a wild goose chase for your girl, said I’d rather be called in when needed. If I saw her, I’d bring her in. If not? I still get paid.” Another moment to catch his breath, he continued, “I was stationed out here to keep an eye on Helena. She’s been fucking around with some scum of the earth and I was told to observe. Just me with the exception of some allies who you fucking shot down, any indication of a threat and their boss might’ve caught wave of what we were doing.” So, he had already seen Robin. But she had been so careful upon meeting, Reina didn’t buy it, “If you were instructed with this task…” She started, not daring to call her Helena. That wasn’t her name. Her name was Robin Holloway and she’d never be so disrespectful but she also wasn’t about to let this slide either. She looked down at her hand, pulling off the bloodied knuckle grip, “Then I’m sure you know that my sister’s name isn’tHelena anymore. I’m sure Eadric gave you that information, didn’t he?” Jacob gritted his teeth, keeping his eyes on Miles who no doubt was pushing him to answer her question, “Yes.” “That’s what I thought.” Reina nodded, “Do not disrespect my sister, got it?” A nod of his head. “Good… Now - my twin found me out here with little to no information on her side. She told me that it took her about two months to crack and find me - you fucking expect me to believe that you just happened to locate her here with all of her experience in covering her tracks? My sister is not an idiot… How did Eadric find her?”

Still, he wouldn’t look at her, a testament to Miles’ threat but now, Jacob narrowed his eyes as if reluctant to give out this piece of information so Reina repeated herself, “How. Did. Eadric. Find. Her?!” “We have a guy.” Jacob spat out with clear irritation, “On the inside, alright?” Reina closed her eyes briefly as she took a deep breath, “They have a fucking rat.” “Yeah, we do. So to answer your fucking question - I don’t know where the fuck Eadric is - I just know he has eyes on Helena. I never even fucking knew I’d be seeing Reina here.” 

                her pleas fell on deaf ears as miles’ own rung with the howls of the bleeding man, no doubt struggling to reassess the precariousness of his situation while there was a literal knife pinning his hand to his lap. miles had seen worse. miles had done worse. the only moment of hesitation was when he felt reina’s presence hovering above him; a silent reminder of what they were here to do, a reminder of who he did not want to become. he did not look at her. he couldn’t afford to. in their interrogation reina can assume the role of the good cop, miles was content in being the cop that was going to fuck you up if you didn’t cooperate. he became a silent presence as jacob ran his mouth of what he knew. his relation to eadric, his role in the operation, helena. he remained something of a barrier between reina and her uncle’s associate, ready to step in at any given moment. from his own shadow, miles nodded and prompted with a stern look or the gleam of the chisel blade whenever further persuasion was needed to keep jacob talking, a reminder of the consequences should jacob choose to refuse to aid in their investigation.  

“you say you don’t know where eadric is, that’s fine.” it was the first time miles spoke since his withdrawal into silence. “but you’ve worked for him,  you know people who do and you know his associates. that means you would know some of his major operating spots.” any retorts jacob may have conjured was quickly silenced by a sharp look and a deadly tone as miles kept pressing. “i want addresses. i want to know what they do. i want names.” his voice retained the politeness that he had assumed when miles asked his first question, but his eyes remained firm and the threat of the second knife still hung over the bleeding man’s head. if they can’t go to eadric, then they can have eadric a reason to come to them. “think hard. because i’ll know if you’re lying to me and releaving you of your second hand will not be hardship.” he left the man to his thoughts, to deliberate his options, or lack thereof, as miles  returned to reina with a pen and paper.

it was the first time since they stepped into the basement that he looked at her, properly look at her. his expression softened considerably. without the burning hatred he just looked tired, and in pain and a genuine concern as he could see that she was still recovering from the new information that was revealed to them. he pressed the stationary into her hand. he noticed it was trembling, and held on for a fraction longer, gently brushing his thumb over her wrist. his voice was gentle when he spoke and raised barely above a whisper. “i know it’s a lot to take in right now, and we’ll find the guy., whoever it is that’s been passing information to that scumbag we’ll find him, i promise you. but right now, i need you to stay focus reina.” the slightest pressure was applied to her hand. “this might be the biggest lead we’re gonna get in a long time. stay focus.” 

miles turned his attention back to jacob, the soft expression steeled into something deadly, something you did not want to cross. “i’d start talking if i were you.”

rose tinted glasses | miles & reina

[miles-leszczynski]

reina-chen:

With his fingers on her hands indicating her to lower the weapon, Reina’s shaky hands slowly complied. She was still, rigid with discomfort as Jacob’s looked back at her with a smirk curling on his lips. She wasn’t fearful - no - she was still so angry that even when Miles turned and hit him so forcefully in… What did he say it was? The solar plexus - she kept her eyes on him, watching as he suffered. He wheezed, sucked in breath, coughed, tried to catch his breath. Eventually, she looked away, unable to bear the sight - yet she still appreciated the warning, reminded herself that this was what he deserved, he wasn’t an innocent here. When Miles walked back towards her, she looked up, yet their eyes didn’t meet as he picked up the bag and walked back towards Jacob.

The man’s eyes levelled with Miles’, reading that there was no bluff in his manner, that compliance was surely the only way to get out of this. Jacob listened, as did Reina - who watched Miles with a kind of fascination towards his sadistic persona. It was like there was no feeling behind the eyes as he suggested such torture. He couldn’t truly mean it, could he? Jacob did. Reina… She didn’t.

Instead of answering Miles, Jacob’s eyes flickered up to Reina, catching that fascination and concern in her eyes before she looked away again. As if it wasn’t enough already, the corners of Jacob’s lips twisted up into a smile, “You look at him like you’re watching a show you’ve never seen before.” Back to Miles he took the flask from him, “Something tells me you’ve never had an audience -” He said, taking a swig of the burning liquor. “Do you ever just stop talki -” “You know, I knew I’d see your pretty face again, Reina, I just thought I would be looking at Helena, not you.” That silenced Reina for a moment - surprised that he knew anything about Robin whatsoever it just confirmed that her sister was surely being watched. Jacob picked up on that look and continued, “I hear she’d been found again, trading hands with Jax and his guys, right?” Reina said nothing, only listened. “I imagine… Given that the two of you are identical that she is just as pretty as you.”

Reina set her gun back in her pocket and folded her arms over her chest,  “You realise that the last time you saw me I was probably about fifteen years old… Sixteen tops. Have you always been a fucking pervert?” Jacob shrugged his shoulders, eyes falling back down to Miles again, “I’m just an admirer of beauty, you understand that, don’t you, kid?” He taunted but Reina persisted, “I highly doubt that my father would have been so keen to let you anywhere near me, let alone fuck me so you’re out of luck.” There it was again, that smile… His eyes burning with mischief as he met Reina’s. He shook his head at her, tutting all the while, “WHAT HE DOESN’T KNOW CAN’T HURT HIM.”

SNAP. With gritted teeth, Reina felt that fire once more as she marched over yet was caught in her step as Jacob spoke again, addressing Miles once more, “I’ll answer your questions, errand boy. I have nothing to lose, anyway, and you… Well… I wouldn’t want to give you an excuse to get too aggressive in front of our princess, here, even if i disagree with your methods. There are easier ways to gain a lady’s attention, you know? Daughter of Rush too, he’s a traditional man - believes in rewards for his biddings. You fulfil a duty to him… He pays handsomely in more ways than just money.” It was a hint of sorts, just something to express just to taunt Miles further before he gestured to him, “You had questions for me. Ask away.” 

he’s a dead man. as soon as they got all the information they came for, he was going to kill him. those were the first thoughts to enter miles’ head as jacob turned his leer toward him, as if they shared something in common. miles has done a lot of horrible things, he did not pretend to be an innocent in all of this but this— it was beyond redemption. any deal made before or after was, as far as he was concerned, void. honour be damned, miles was not leaving the basement until the light leaves that man’s eyes. but jacob didn’t know that, and miles’ features remained a passive mask, saved for his eyes. they were ablaze with an inferno of fierce hatred, simmering somewhere just below the surface. he returned the flask to its home in his jacket pocket and went to his black duffel. he did not dignify any of jacob’s jeers with a response. he had other ideas in mind, and the first came in the form of a chisel. 

miles stood in front of jacob for a while, silently examining the tool, making sure that jacob could see him examining the tool. he wanted to play games? miles can play. he made a notion as if to plunge the chisel into his hand but shifted at the last second, instead delivering another body blow. the target of his assault was the man’s sternum. if the solar plexus was bad, the sternum was worse. a bruised sternum was bad enough as it is, but miles wasn’t going for a bruise; he intended to fracture. unlike the previous blow, this pain was worse and it doesn’t go away. even the slightest repositioning of his torso was answered with a sharp, intense pain. a pain that only worsened with every breath and every cough. once jacob had recovered enough from the shock of the blow to at least comprehend words, miles began to speak. “in case it isn’t already made clear, drinks are now off the table.”  

in quick methodical procedures, miles took one of jacob’s hands placed it on top of his lap and in a single motion (so swift you have to stop to wonder when he even had the knife in his hand to begin with) speared the blade through the back of the lackey’s hand through to the flesh underneath; pinning the two together. the howl that answered him was more animal than man and judging by the spasm that came afterward the combination of the pain from his sternum and now his hand and quadricep, jacob was not sitting comfortably. good. miles didn’t so much as flinch. his gaze was steady. he stayed where he was, crouched in front of the bleeding man as he waited for his eyes to find his once more. eyes that were burning with anger and pain both. miles returned the glare with equal passion. “before we get started let me make this very clear: you don’t look at her. you don’t speak to her. if you even so much as breathe in her direction the pinky will be the first to go.” miles tapped the blade of the chisel against the finger in question, just to make sure that there was no mistaking his intention, “and then it’ll be your ring finger, and then your middle finger, and i trust you know how this works.” straightening up to his full height, miles made a point to keep the chisel in full view of the bleeding man. 

“where’s eadric now?” he asked. his tone could almost pass for polite, but his eyes still burned with the same fury. “try to stay on subject this time.” miles’ eyes went to the man’s bleeding hand, and then to his remaining good one. “i’m just waiting for an excuse.”

rose tinted glasses | miles & reina

[miles-leszczynski]

reina-chen:

Planning something and executing it were two totally different things. Planning was the easy part. They were words, something that could be fabricated and glamourised within the mind. Even though she knew that there was brutality, horror within this plan, it was totally different from actually doing this. No matter what she thought she was getting herself into from the beginning, nothing could prepare her for the flash of a man that quickly went limp from a single bullet, blood oozing onto the wooden flooring. The sight caused her breath to hitch in her throat and yet, Miles simply stepped over the body and kept walking… Like it was nothing, because it WAS nothing. None of these men mattered to him and they shouldn’t matter to her either. shoot to kill. you can trust that they will.

NO. That she couldn’t do. It wasn’t in her nature and despite wanting so desperately not to care, she did. She was afraid. Weak. And perhaps his good conscience of hers is what will inevitably result in her death. That compassion, morality - it was so different from her father, her uncle… So different from Miles. Kieren. Valor. Quentin… Even Harlow… GOD, how she missed her best friend right about now.

She rounded a corner, back against the wall as she took a deep breath, eyes closed briefly to calm those nerves, fall back into the task at hand. She reminded herself that Miles wasn’t like her father or her uncle. That he was a good man who… did bad things. No matter what a person did, good or bad, most of the time they believed they were doing the right thing. She had come to learn that these things were not all black and white, she was just trying to hurry up and understand that more.

These thoughts occurred in a matter of seconds, when her eyes flickered open again, she was ready to go. Find our guy. While the array of gunshots fired from whom she hoped was her companion, Reina crept round to find their main man. She was quiet, though even with the goggles over her eyes, concentration was key within the darkness. One of her hands wrapped around the gun in her back pocket, pulling it out in order to level it in front of her. However, moments after she had done this, the ear splitting sensation of a glass being smashed over her head knocked her forward onto the ground. No doubt, she was probably bleeding on the back of the head, maybe her ears, but she urged herself to keep awake. GET. UP. So she did. Turned. And was greeted with a fist to her cheek that made her head whip round to the floor again. Th coppery taste of blood filled her mouth, even her nose seemed to gain some of that impact that made her bleed - gas mask and all. What the fuck was this guy wearing? Knuckle armour? Because that certainly wasn’t skin to skin contact. No, it felt like metal. Regardless, Reina silently thanked the mask as she believed it at least took off some of the impact, at least she wouldn’t be walking around with a broken nose, at least she hoped.

Where the fuck did her gun go? There. An arm’s length away. She was about to scramble for it when fingers curled tightly into her hair, digging into her scalp that had already been scrapped by the glass beforehand. Reina cried out, forced to follow her hair and kneel upwards as her hands fell over her attacker. “you fuckers come here thinking you’ll get away with this? You’ll have to pay for this, GIRL.” He sneered. Words so disgusting, yet also indicated something even worse. Enjoyment. Dominance. Control. The fact that he had called her a girl. The ideas that circled around his mind at those few words already displayed the nature of his very being. That women were objects to be played with and she, Reina, would be another toy for him to master in a game. GIRL. It made her blood boil. Her teeth grit and an overwhelming sense of anger coursed through her body. No matter how weak she might have been from her shooting, only recently regaining a sliver of strength, the adrenaline carried her through… And she SNAPPED. He coughed, reminding Reina that although he was rather strong, he was tiring out. The extra can of sleeping gas making him weaker, so much so that he took a moment to shield his mouth with an arm and splutter out the gas. She took the opportunity to elbow him in the groin, so intensely that the man had to let go of Reina’s hair in order to cover any more pain against his lower area. Reina turned, the closest thing to her being a pool table ball which, with enough force, certainly did some damage which this guy found out. She smacked him over the head with the ball, kicking him down with the sole of her boot. Once he was down, she stepped forward, pushing her foot down on his wrist to easily pull off the knuckle grip that she rightly predicted was wrapped around his fingers. HERS NOW. With the grip now placed over her fingers - smaller - they didn’t fit but who cared? She straddled him, a struggle in order to stop him from getting his hands up. When she had secured him the woman just started started to fire blows across his face. One after another. So sick of being treated as nothing. Of people underestimating her. She wanted to beat every sick, pervert, disgusting thought out of the man’s mind. To beat him as a warning for anyone who had the audacity to fuck with her again. And she kept going until he didn’t fight anymore, till his face was bloodied up and no doubt would be swollen by the morning, till her own fingers were covered red, the metal of her grip coated too.

It was only when she had slightly calmed down (though the ferocious heart beat begged to differ) did Reina realised that this was their guy. Miles was right too - he did work for Eadric once. His name? Jacob. Miraculously, he was still awake though the sleeping gas would certainly get to him soon enough. She had every sense to knock him the fuck out, tell Miles that she did it in self defence but she held back. Instead, she straighten up, glaring down at the him, “Get. Up.” She demanded, pushing herself up off of him and walked to pick up her gun, clicking off the safety and pointing it at him in warning, “Get the fuck up, now! MOVE!” She instructed and he groggily got to his feet, holding his hands up in defence. “Turn around.” Jacob followed her commands without argument, “I don’t wanna hear you fucking talk until you’re told to, got it?” Subtlety, she clicked the safety back into place as she jabbed the barrel his his back, “Walk. To the basement. You fuck me with? I’ll blow your head off.” She said as a certain matter of fact. If he stumbled, she pushed him forward, kept her eyes on him and only diverted for seconds as she noticed the bodies that Miles had left in his wake. He was just one man. One man against all of these - dead. If she had been calm, the whole thing would send a shiver down her spine but instead - she was angry. ANGER GETS SHIT DONE.

Once they had made their way to the basement, the woman kicked the door close behind them, the air down here better than the rest of the bar, “What are you -” She hit him round the head with the back of her gun and pushed him forward. Hard, but not enough to knock out. An indication to shut the fuck up and as pay back for the glass on her head. As they reached the bottom of the staircase, Reina noticed her companion, gun at a man’s head. Maybe… Before she had found herself in this scrape with Jacob, she would have cried out, tell him to stop but instead, she focused on her guy, “Sit down.” She said pushing him down on a stool, “Don’t move.” But really, Reina knew that Jacob had no where to go, nor was he awake enough to even make a break for it. Sticky and bloodied up, Reina pulled off the gas mask, satisfied that the basement air was better than above. “Knock him out.” She told Miles, that same compassion seemingly pushing to the forefront of her mind again, but she also didn’t want to have to clean up more bodies than they needed to.

“Chen’s girl…” Jacob cooed from his seat, a sinister smile pulling on his lips that made her look back to him irritably. “Boss said you were dead and here you are - pretty and all… Sorry about the scratch, darling.” He then turned his attention looking at Miles, “You know there’s a bounty on her head, a lot of money if you take her in, hell, I’m sure the boss will even let you marry the girl if you’re lucky. Be part of the family.” ENOUGH. Reina pointed her gun at him menacingly as she said in a dangerously low voice, “Talk again out of turn. Try it. See what happens.” 

her voice pulled his attention away from their target, if only temporarily, and his eyes traced the line of blood that smeared across her face, mingling with the dark streaks of hair that clung to her cheeks. his first instinct was to go to her, to make sure that she was okay. the stoniness in his gaze softened ever so slightly and as if on its own accord, his hand started reaching upward. then he spoke. when the lackey’s words were turned on miles his entire body went rigid. it was the sort of sneering that made his skin crawl. he wasn’t disgusted. he was pissed. miles did not so much as utter a word as he put a hand on reina’s gun, lowering it. the gesture was gentle, but every muscle was riddled with tension.

it all happened in a span of a breath, so quickly that if one had their eyes trained elsewhere they might have missed it. miles shifted all his weight onto his back foot and whirled, using the momentum of the turn to strike the bleeding man with an audible thud, the sound of flesh against flesh, all the force of the hit concentrated on one vital area. there was no shout, not even a groan, but a pathetic, wheezing sound that mingled with choking gurgles. miles stepped closer, bending down so that they were almost nose to nose. “do you know where i just hit you? here?” he dug his fist into the tender spot. jacob’s went purple, his face contorted and riddled with pain, but there was still no sound. his mouth was left gapping open as he tried to take in air and failing. “that’s called the solar plexus. a lot of nerves there, a lot of vital organs, see that’s why it hurts so bad. and it’s real close to the diaphragm too, that’s why you can’t breathe right now. you wanna know what happens to you when you can’t breathe?” he tapped a finger to jacob’s temple. “no oxygen. when you got no oxygen that does all kinds of shit to your brain. distorts things, like say, make things more painful than it really is.” he might have been explaining this to a high school biology class with his unwavering display of practised placidity. “leszczynski, do you know that name?” there was recognition in jacob’s eyes, but still no sound. “good. so you know who i am.” miles was about a breath away, but this time it was different. there was a darkness in the glare of his eyes, and the scowl that twisted the corner of his lips, and the growl that rumbled deep in his chest. “talk to her like that again and you’ll know exactly what i can do.”

he straighten up, his face resumed its usual composure but the sharp glare never left his eyes. “i’ll give you a second to catch your breath.” he turned and made a beeline to retrieve the black duffle bag from when he let it drop from his shoulder. he did not have the courage to return reina’s gaze as he walked past her. 

there was the sound of metal against metal as he pulled the zip back. within the bag were an assortment of tools from chisels and pliers and hammers to an arrangement of dangerous looking knives whose blade gleamed against the light of the basement. he made sure that jacob could see everything; a silent advice that non-compliance was not in the man’s best interest. by the time miles returned to stand above the bleeding man, some colour had returned to his face and the wheezing had lessened to heavy breathing. “now this is where you listen carefully because i’m only going to say this once. you have one of two options. we can sit and have a drink and you answer all our questions with only the truth and nothing but the truth and then we go our separate ways. or, i start with your fingers. friendly warning, there’s a lot of nerves in there too, and you’ve got ten fingers and i’ve got all night.” miles reached into the pocket of his jacket and produced a silver flask. he held it in front of the man’s face, his smile was pleasant but his eyes remained firm. it was a peace offering, but miles was not his friend. “so what is it gonna be?”

rose tinted glasses | miles & reina

[miles-leszczynski]

maddiexfox:

“Ahh…” Maddie nod her head, “I never know that thing was called contractor, although maybe it was said on the name, something contractual, huh…” she rambled and getting to a point by herself, “Sorry, I rambled a lot, and it even gets worse when I’m hungry,” she told the guy with a small laugh. “I guess people usually used getting a fresh start as a very cliche and vague reason,” she chuckled, “Well, I think if I throw you out it got a lot to do with you sleeping here and not really order anything else?” she raised her eyebrow.

      he merely acknowledged the apology with a raise of his brow. her tendency to ramble was not new information if their brief interaction was anything to go by. “as long as it gets the question answered.” as miles himself did not want to give the woman further excuse to interrogate his every motive. miles looked down at his coffee. it was cold and only half finished but he paid for it just as any customer had. “i didn’t realise there was a correlation between how long you can stay and how much food you buy.”