#whispers fave this is 10000 years late is this okay would u prefer something else lmao have cookies

[faronvasiliev-blog]

@nikolaiborisov verona, twenty-one minutes past six.

Dusk breaking. Sun broken up in fragments all over the alley floor, on a dustbin, halfway across a forgotten bicycle chain wrapped around a post. Dashed across the arm of a man and the struggling convulsions of his unfortunate victim, slow crush of a throat in the sunset. A lovely, vermillion colour. On a low wall, an alley cat settles to watch. Black eyes, hooded with intent.

In his throat a low croon of a sound, “Ssh-” The woman- hears, does not listen. Struggles with her nails clawing at his arm. Glint of a knife on the ground, slick with nothing more than light and polished gleam. His grip tightens.

A crack of sound. The cat shudders. The tight grip of her nails drop. Body falling limp in his arms.

Better.

Gently, he lets her down. She slides into the mud without complaint, petite frame settling into the dirt, arranging itself in an unbeautiful heap. Eyes wide open.

When he looks up there’s an unexpected figure at the other end of the alley. Broken up sun and it hides the figure in a scatter of light- silhouette sharpening in slow strokes, turning to a man. He smiles to himself. Raises a palm in brief ‘hello’.

“Apologies for the mess of a conversation starter.” A smile breaking lopsided on his mouth. Stepping forward, unmindful as he treads a jacket sleeve into the ground. “Do you mind if I ask you to take care of the body for me?” There’s charisma bleeding every vowel, an ease in his speech at odds with the body cooling into rigor mortis on the alley floor. Gaze never leaving Nikolai as he moves far enough to lean against the brick wall, light a cigarette and wait for his reply.