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.❞
