#(( soft drinks? right up zeev's alley ahem ))

[hochmvt]

“Bet your momma’s proud of raising such a quiet little bitch?” spat the brunette, who was ostensibly standing nonchalant next to Isaiah, leaning against the gas station counter. The blonde had learned that just keeping quiet usually worked best to not upset anyone. The three men who involuntarily kept him company while he paid had been waiting in the scorching Montana summer sun for something other than the dust of the road to stir. Two passing tourists were a convenient distraction when life didn't have much more to offer than this. His gaze went outside for a moment to his trusty Chevy, to Zeev, who was waiting for him, then to the distant horizon: to the wild, cloudy sky on this windless blue summer's day. 

“I'm pretty sure you understood me just fine,” the American smirked as he ran his fingers through his blonde strands of hair, smiling at Zeev. Admittedly, the three strangers' insults and hollow phrases tended to be rather uncreative, even though Isaiah was reluctant to admit that two of them had struck a nerve. Smiling faintly, he held up the plastic packaging and nodded affirmatively at Zeev's question: “I got you some strawberries. They look a little sad but I'm sure they taste great anyway. And some water.” 

On their trip towards Seattle - they both worked their last jobs before the big summer vacation they had planned; a convention panel Isaiah was speaking at and a campaign for a soft drink where Zeev was supposed to be the face of - they often talked about trivial things, listened to just as much music, visited the occasional landmark on the way (or a slight detour) and the intellectual intimacy had still been as pleasant as in their time in Edinburgh. “Last gas station for some time. You have everything you got, love?”

that's the 𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞 of what i just suggested .

Amongst many characteristics, Zeev was above all someone taking liberty in interpretations. Especially when the act brought him closer to his goal. This particular goal was blonde, tall, had a charming smile and looked like he hasn't slept since birth, hiding in his slightly oversized hoodie, but Zeev knew that underneath all that there was a man with stories to tell the witcher only could dream of ever experiencing himself.

"Not sure what you mean," he snickered, leaning sideways closer to the other, their shoulders briefly touching. "You said I should not engage. I didn't." A mischievous smile lit up his face. "I just made sure they knew you are not alone."

The strangers at the gas station had been way too close for Zeev's taste and it had been obvious they were seeking trouble out of boredom. Seated in the car he had watched them from afar as they tried to pull Isaiah into a provocative quarrel, getting way too comfortable in his personal space.

At some point Zeev had turned the music up and swung himself out of the car, showing the most dashing smile he could have mustered and pointed a question towards Isaiah, ignoring the others. The strangers had felt interrupted, buggering off soon after. Whatever they had tried to accomplish, Zeev wasn't having it.

"Got all you need?" he wondered lastly, nonchalantly waving a hand at the station's shop.