a second look confirmed that yes, he was holding the rake with the actual rake bit towards the ground. sure, swinging a plain stick around might too do some damage, but it was a bit ridiculous looking with the prongs on the bottom side. silently and rather embarrassedly, he sets the rake back against the bannister of his porch. “ my apologies– you had yet to announce yourself. all i saw was the flash of an unfamiliar shadow and heard were the sounds of hurried footsteps. it could have been anyone– or anything. “
had he truly felt threatened, he would’ve swung that rake around in the blink of an eye regardless of who or what it was. although he was right. knowing who it was, he had no reason to truly be afraid, at least not yet.
“ how many times have i urged you to remain within your residence at this time of night ? stalking about in the dead of night might give cause for worry. “
❝I was heading here, anyways. Figured I’d catch you at the door. Suppose not, though, considering that you almost took the chance to maim me with a rake,❞ a dry laugh. ❝Can’t say I have any hard feelings about it. I probably would of let you take you best shot it I didn’t have other plans… Would of been neat if I were a fuckin’ cryptid, yeah?❞ he steps closer, calloused fingers outstretched before they run through Damien’s hair, brushing it behind his ear.
❝Are you going to let me in tonight? Your kid should be asleep by now, yeah?❞ he wasn’t sure HOW he felt, truth be told. Easily, Damien could send him away and he wouldn’t even bat an eye. It never felt like they were using each other– they’d known each other for YEARS and never had it once came across that way– at least in Robert’s eyes. Perhaps, though, since his disappearance from and reappearance back into Damien’s life, things had grown more… PAINFULLY CASUAL. Still, Robert hadn’t a clue on how to deal with other’s emotions ( or his own, for that matter ) and sincerely, he didn’t know what it was like to properly interact unless it involved booze and sex, or taking out his own pent-up rage. A lot of the time, that went hand-in-hand.
❝And how many times do I gotta say, I sleep during the day. It’s just how I work.❞
the last thing he wants is to make eye contact or call attention to himself. in fact, he can even hear a variety of dreaded phrases running through his sleep deprived thoughts. it would be easier on himself to just go inside and try to get some sleep. it would more than likely to be fruitless seeing as he’d have to get up to take lucien to school, but some sleep is better than no sleep.
he’s nearly halfway to the front porch when he swears he can hear footsteps gaining from behind. he can barely produce a sound as he whips around, grabbing the nearest object ( a rake it would appear ) and wielding it in the direction of his pursuer.
❝Good mornin’ to you too,❞ he growls, stepping into the rays of a floodlight that clicked on– an automatic one, Rob assumed, as there was no possible way anyone in this cul-de-sac could of heard either of them, or even be CONCERNED.People in this neighborhood were oddly social– coming and going at odd hours. Not once had the cops been called though; not once had there been a call for suspicion ( Robert aside, of course, as he was rather… Suspicion incarnate. Nobody knew what he does. Sure– he caused property damage, but had he really? ). ❝Calm yourself. You’re not even holding that rake right, I doubt you’d of hurt me if you’d tried, Damien.❞
He gives a dry laugh, raising his arms as if to show he wasn’t even doing as much as holding ANYTHING. ❝You know I’d never hurt you.❞
‘ Robert, my, you’re the last person I expected to attend.’ A small bubble of a giggle grows betwixt his PERFECT ribs—innocently feigned, humbly delivered, like a joke shared over midnight cocktails. Oh! How ribald of him, a YOUTH MINISTER certainly did not delight in intoxicant, && he most CERTAINLY, did not approve of the whisky breath wafting from the other’s chapped lips. ‘ I’m so happy to see you, truly.’ The DIVINE man clasps pale fingers together at his chest, comically impersonating the Blessed Virgin.
GREAT,this was the absolute LAST person he wanted to see. Sure– it WAS Joseph’s party, and SURE, he had invited himself in to sit in the corner and drink until he was passed out drunk in the kiddie pool, but the LEAST this guy could of graced him by IGNORING HIS PRESENCE ALTOGETHER. He gives a deep, throaty growl, taking a sip of his whiskey ( which naturally, he had brought himself ) before speaking. ❝Don’t suck your own dick about it. I have other friends here I’m visiting, Joseph. Don’t you have other Bible Study attendees to be tending to?❞
Maybe, if he looked away, this guy would turn into something else. Nope. Robert gives him a short nod and takes a drink as well. This is some crazy shit. Quick, think of something to say. He’s gotta know this guy, whoever he is. “Name’s Dave. Tickle pitbulls for a living.” Nailed it. Yeah, this guy’s a cryptid, probably an alien.
Well, that’s fucking weird.
❝… Juan. I work at Party City.❞ Like FUCK is he was going to tell this creep his real name. Or anyone shady for that matter. Or the cops. But ESPECIALLY not this Dave dude. ❝… Tickling pitbulls. Never heard’a that job before. Tell me about it.❞
