02-14-2021, 09:01 PM
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Who the fuck puts up security cameras within a gated community?!
Slumped effortlessly on the sofa, Silas wouldn't dilly-dally before bringing a bowl of cheap macaroni and cheese up to his lips, shovelling spoonful after spoonful into his mouth as vacant eyes stared dully at the television. Silas should've been reeling after last night; they managed to ghost Deran Benson of all people. How fucking awesome was that?! Whilst he couldn't claim to have a literal bucket list handy, Silas could say for certain that ticking a radio celebrity off the list was enthralling.
Next could be a movie star, or perhaps a politician. Silas hated politicians. Ooh, he hated them a lot. If people thought Silas was bad, try listening to a politician for half an hour; they could do a whole deal of damage with their surreptitiously sly dealings and delicate bullshit weaved like poetry. It was enough to make anyone's ears bleed, so a nice little murder would be a blessing in disguise if anything.
The point he wished to make was solely the fact that this should have been it. This should have been the fireworks and party poppers moment in his life, the zenith of career as the most pathetically vile criminal alive. Where was all the action? Where was all the adrenaline? Why was Silas slouched on the couch instead, stomach poking out from beneath his t-shirt as he spooned mouthfuls of plastic-y, cheesy goop into his mouth? Why was he watching a show about housewives?
❝ How is your brain not rotting from watching this shitshow? ❞ And here Luka came strolling in like the cocky bastard he was, Silas sneering up at him through deeply knitted brows before he uttered with a mouthful of food, ❝ Because I'm already brain dead havin' to talk to you everyday. ❞ He turned his head to look back at the television, swallowing his mouthful before adding as an afterthought, ❝ It's actually really tragic. I had so much going for me as well. ❞
Silas couldn't deny the fact he kind of liked the idiot. Sure, Silas could give Luka credit for the most interesting introduction but other than that Silas wouldn't dare to admit a thing to him. Okay — yeah — Silas liked Luka, but what was it to him anyways? It wasn't like Luka would ever reciprocate without hurting Silas' feelings more than making him feel at all loved. Luka wasn't capable of kindness. He was nothing but a body with no heart but a pulse that made the silence of any empty home not so bad after all. He was good for nothing else; just a ticking clock to comfort a lonely dog.
Luka made himself comfortable, kicking his legs up to rest across Silas' lap despite Silas' groans. ❝ Really? ❞ He squeaked, shaking his head before putting his now-empty bowl on the side table. And, just as he straightened up again, he hadn't realised that Luka had managed to grab a hold of the remote control until the channel changed. ❝ I was watching that. ❞ Silas whined half-heartedly but gave up pretty quickly. Instead, he rested his forearms on Luka's shins, shaking his head slowly until Luka handed the remote back Silas' way.
Silas said nothing but gave Luka a bored huff, lifting the remote before he began to flick through channels mindlessly until—
❝ -found around an hour ago when he failed to show up for his evening show. ❞ Oh, they found Deran quickly. ❝ Huh. ❞ Silas hummed, tossing the remote aside as he watched the television screen, eyes dazzling with pride as he watched the news report until a video showed up on the screen, pausing on two identifiable faces in a security camera inside Benson's home. He could barely register the sound of the reporter's voice after that, instead a heavy ringing noise buzzing in his ears as he tensed up in horror. ❝ -suspects appear to be two men in their late twenties, early thirties. They left Benson's home just after midnight and- ❞ Shit...
Yeah. Shit.
❝ Ah, balls. ❞ Silas uttered under his breath before whipping his head to gawk at Luka, eyes darting over his features worriedly. ❝ We can't stay here. ❞ He mumbled softly, lips parted before pushing Luka's legs off of his lap so that he could stand up. ❝ We need to take my car and get outta here. Look at how clear that footage is of us! ❞
He gestured to the footage of their getaway on the television before he kicked at the coffee table, ❝ Fuck! Who the fuck puts up security cameras within a gated community?! ❞ Restlessly, Silas paced the living room before jabbing a pointer finger towards his bedroom. ❝ Pack a bag. We're leaving now. ❞
[color=transparent]u rock !
Who the fuck puts up security cameras within a gated community?!
Slumped effortlessly on the sofa, Silas wouldn't dilly-dally before bringing a bowl of cheap macaroni and cheese up to his lips, shovelling spoonful after spoonful into his mouth as vacant eyes stared dully at the television. Silas should've been reeling after last night; they managed to ghost Deran Benson of all people. How fucking awesome was that?! Whilst he couldn't claim to have a literal bucket list handy, Silas could say for certain that ticking a radio celebrity off the list was enthralling.
Next could be a movie star, or perhaps a politician. Silas hated politicians. Ooh, he hated them a lot. If people thought Silas was bad, try listening to a politician for half an hour; they could do a whole deal of damage with their surreptitiously sly dealings and delicate bullshit weaved like poetry. It was enough to make anyone's ears bleed, so a nice little murder would be a blessing in disguise if anything.
The point he wished to make was solely the fact that this should have been it. This should have been the fireworks and party poppers moment in his life, the zenith of career as the most pathetically vile criminal alive. Where was all the action? Where was all the adrenaline? Why was Silas slouched on the couch instead, stomach poking out from beneath his t-shirt as he spooned mouthfuls of plastic-y, cheesy goop into his mouth? Why was he watching a show about housewives?
❝ How is your brain not rotting from watching this shitshow? ❞ And here Luka came strolling in like the cocky bastard he was, Silas sneering up at him through deeply knitted brows before he uttered with a mouthful of food, ❝ Because I'm already brain dead havin' to talk to you everyday. ❞ He turned his head to look back at the television, swallowing his mouthful before adding as an afterthought, ❝ It's actually really tragic. I had so much going for me as well. ❞
Silas couldn't deny the fact he kind of liked the idiot. Sure, Silas could give Luka credit for the most interesting introduction but other than that Silas wouldn't dare to admit a thing to him. Okay — yeah — Silas liked Luka, but what was it to him anyways? It wasn't like Luka would ever reciprocate without hurting Silas' feelings more than making him feel at all loved. Luka wasn't capable of kindness. He was nothing but a body with no heart but a pulse that made the silence of any empty home not so bad after all. He was good for nothing else; just a ticking clock to comfort a lonely dog.
Luka made himself comfortable, kicking his legs up to rest across Silas' lap despite Silas' groans. ❝ Really? ❞ He squeaked, shaking his head before putting his now-empty bowl on the side table. And, just as he straightened up again, he hadn't realised that Luka had managed to grab a hold of the remote control until the channel changed. ❝ I was watching that. ❞ Silas whined half-heartedly but gave up pretty quickly. Instead, he rested his forearms on Luka's shins, shaking his head slowly until Luka handed the remote back Silas' way.
Silas said nothing but gave Luka a bored huff, lifting the remote before he began to flick through channels mindlessly until—
❝ -found around an hour ago when he failed to show up for his evening show. ❞ Oh, they found Deran quickly. ❝ Huh. ❞ Silas hummed, tossing the remote aside as he watched the television screen, eyes dazzling with pride as he watched the news report until a video showed up on the screen, pausing on two identifiable faces in a security camera inside Benson's home. He could barely register the sound of the reporter's voice after that, instead a heavy ringing noise buzzing in his ears as he tensed up in horror. ❝ -suspects appear to be two men in their late twenties, early thirties. They left Benson's home just after midnight and- ❞ Shit...
Yeah. Shit.
❝ Ah, balls. ❞ Silas uttered under his breath before whipping his head to gawk at Luka, eyes darting over his features worriedly. ❝ We can't stay here. ❞ He mumbled softly, lips parted before pushing Luka's legs off of his lap so that he could stand up. ❝ We need to take my car and get outta here. Look at how clear that footage is of us! ❞
He gestured to the footage of their getaway on the television before he kicked at the coffee table, ❝ Fuck! Who the fuck puts up security cameras within a gated community?! ❞ Restlessly, Silas paced the living room before jabbing a pointer finger towards his bedroom. ❝ Pack a bag. We're leaving now. ❞
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I'M BURNING BRIDGES, I DESTROY THE MIRAGE
[div style="width: 400px; font-family: georgia; text-align: center; font-size: 5pt; line-height: 1; letter-spacing: 2.6px; word-spacing: 1.9px; margin-bottom: 5px;"]ALL VISIONS OF COLLISIONS, FUCKING BON VOYAGE — truce.#1303
《 WRITING &. PINTEREST &. SPOTIFY 》
[div style="width: 400px; font-family: georgia; text-align: center; font-size: 5pt; line-height: 1; letter-spacing: 2.6px; word-spacing: 1.9px; margin-bottom: 5px;"]ALL VISIONS OF COLLISIONS, FUCKING BON VOYAGE — truce.#1303
《 WRITING &. PINTEREST &. SPOTIFY 》