Yeah ok. Maybe he wasn't doing all that great. Angel seemed to take her care of him seriously. Which, you know, was pretty damn cool. Not like the other girls who ran with them were bitches or anything. They were fun- hella fun, obviously- but they also were just girls.
And he was rather partial to women. Like women women. And he let 'em know. Oh quite a few chuckled at his brag and tease, even as their eyes said they enjoyed it, walking home maybe lighter in their step. He'd laugh, imagining their boyfriends or husbands or whatever might be in for a bit of fun later that night. But in some, he saw a bit more than appreciation. The ones with black eyes. The lonely. Or who were on the outs with their pimps. Holy Mother, it broke what little heart he had.
Pools of ache and emptiness inside and all they wanted to be was appreciated. Well, he could do that. And as for the other...well....he wasn't a snitch or nothin' and he wasn't the police. He was just a guy. But when some chuckle-fuck thought he could knock his mom around, well let's just say that a cinderblock brick slammed hard to the face has a way of shouting Booooyakasha! Not like guys around here had a lot of money for nose jobs and the like. Toothal reconstructions or dentures. Jaw fixings and such. So a thoroughly busted ass nose, along with a few other broken things (or squashed, as in the case of the guy's balls) pretty much ended that noise.
And while no one had actually seen it, most knew enough to stay clear of him. So maybe one of those assholes who thought hitting a woman made them all manly and shit found themselves enjoying the smack-crack-tearing of rebar. Not like today was his first time it was his weapon. And it wouldn't be the last.
Course that brings its own kind of attention. Maybe today was retaliation and maybe not. Northsiders didn't exactly need much excuse. Territory was territory after all. And it wasn't like he wasn't careful when he acted.
So....wait! What the fuck had he been thinking about? Damn, his head hurt. Hard to follow the train of thought.
As if on cue, Angel stopped to check his wounds. Mother in Heaven, but her smile. Oh yeah. Now he remembered. Older women. Yeah. He liked older women. Responsible. Mature. Not as flighty and stupid as girls his age or younger. And they were always a lot of fun, especially those who thought he was their boy-toy.
Which he was. He didn't mind in the goddamn slightest. Lots'a learning there. Education's important, son, Sarge had said to him back when the gang first started letting him hang with them. He'd be grinning, eyeing some fox, adding Hit that college, is all I'm saying. Major in hearts and ass. And Bas, just a 12 year old kid, had laughed and laughed. Partly because he was being included by a man he looked up to. But also because for all of that brag and 'advice', Sarge would always have only the same one girl in all the years he'd known him, right up until he'd left the crew. Bas missed him even if he didn't understand why he'd gotten out. But, eh, people were different, was all. Still if Sarge ever called for him, he'd be there in a heartbeat. You don't abandon your people.
So yeah, just sayin'. Be good to people. Nina Angel was good to him. And he'd be good to her.
Her look at his request made him laugh and it was totally worth the stab of pain from his broken rib (ribs?). She seemed to blush and after a moment her hand went into his front pocket. Jokingly with a stupid ecstatic grin on his face, he said breathily "Ahh baby...yeah..." and then laughed again. Haha! He did love seeing her blush.
And then the door opened and the smells of dinner drifted in. Ma had left something on the stove- probably a stew. Which meant she'd be out the rest of the night. Arkady was probably off with his buddies or something. Kid was only 11 and not part of any of his stuff (though he wanted to). There were rules about that sort of thing. Street justice was merciless and there were no protections or rights. He was safe.
The small kitchen was fairly clean. Good. Ma hadn't messed it up too much since he'd cleaned it before he went out this morning. And Arkady hadn't left any clothes on the floor. Not like he was a neat freak. But it wasn't hard to keep things looking presentable if you kept up with the little stuff.
He limped in with Nina's help, touching his fingers to his lips and then to the statue of the Virgin on the table next to the door. The walls had a few icons- not with any gold or jewels or anything, just colored glass and gold painted plastic. A table with books that he never touched. Not his thing. Some fake flowers in a vase. He'd gotten them for Ma a few months ago. Real ones never lasted. She liked the bright colors.
It was a small apartment but it was home. Where he felt at peace. He limped over to the kitchen with her help and despite the strain, reached back into the cupboard and felt around for a jar. Arkady thought that it was just for salt. Which kept it safe, obviously. He pulled out a wrapped pastry. It was only from yesterday and taken from a convenience store so it probably coulda spent months in there and be good to eat.
He handed it to her, face showing some shame. "Look...It's not much. It's all I have at the moment. It was something I was saving for a special occasion." He smiled ar her, looking deep into her eyes, and he leaned into her a bit. "But I think you're a special occasion." Ok. Maybe corny. Who the hell cared.
The moment seemed to drag out. Here he is probably dyin' and what-not. But damn, if you're gonna die, in the arms of an angel is a pretty fucking good place to do it, he figured. Fuck yeah. Let me die with a beautiful woman beside me, he prayed to the Mother.
He was only half joking.
The quiet of the moment was punctured by the sound of her stomach rumbling. His mouth split and he laughed, hugging her into his chest despite the pain to give her cover. He was sure she was embarrassed. "Aww. Come on. Have some stew first. Ma's specialty. Then dessert."
[Nina modded and grumbling with permission ;-)]
And he was rather partial to women. Like women women. And he let 'em know. Oh quite a few chuckled at his brag and tease, even as their eyes said they enjoyed it, walking home maybe lighter in their step. He'd laugh, imagining their boyfriends or husbands or whatever might be in for a bit of fun later that night. But in some, he saw a bit more than appreciation. The ones with black eyes. The lonely. Or who were on the outs with their pimps. Holy Mother, it broke what little heart he had.
Pools of ache and emptiness inside and all they wanted to be was appreciated. Well, he could do that. And as for the other...well....he wasn't a snitch or nothin' and he wasn't the police. He was just a guy. But when some chuckle-fuck thought he could knock his mom around, well let's just say that a cinderblock brick slammed hard to the face has a way of shouting Booooyakasha! Not like guys around here had a lot of money for nose jobs and the like. Toothal reconstructions or dentures. Jaw fixings and such. So a thoroughly busted ass nose, along with a few other broken things (or squashed, as in the case of the guy's balls) pretty much ended that noise.
And while no one had actually seen it, most knew enough to stay clear of him. So maybe one of those assholes who thought hitting a woman made them all manly and shit found themselves enjoying the smack-crack-tearing of rebar. Not like today was his first time it was his weapon. And it wouldn't be the last.
Course that brings its own kind of attention. Maybe today was retaliation and maybe not. Northsiders didn't exactly need much excuse. Territory was territory after all. And it wasn't like he wasn't careful when he acted.
So....wait! What the fuck had he been thinking about? Damn, his head hurt. Hard to follow the train of thought.
As if on cue, Angel stopped to check his wounds. Mother in Heaven, but her smile. Oh yeah. Now he remembered. Older women. Yeah. He liked older women. Responsible. Mature. Not as flighty and stupid as girls his age or younger. And they were always a lot of fun, especially those who thought he was their boy-toy.
Which he was. He didn't mind in the goddamn slightest. Lots'a learning there. Education's important, son, Sarge had said to him back when the gang first started letting him hang with them. He'd be grinning, eyeing some fox, adding Hit that college, is all I'm saying. Major in hearts and ass. And Bas, just a 12 year old kid, had laughed and laughed. Partly because he was being included by a man he looked up to. But also because for all of that brag and 'advice', Sarge would always have only the same one girl in all the years he'd known him, right up until he'd left the crew. Bas missed him even if he didn't understand why he'd gotten out. But, eh, people were different, was all. Still if Sarge ever called for him, he'd be there in a heartbeat. You don't abandon your people.
So yeah, just sayin'. Be good to people. Nina Angel was good to him. And he'd be good to her.
Her look at his request made him laugh and it was totally worth the stab of pain from his broken rib (ribs?). She seemed to blush and after a moment her hand went into his front pocket. Jokingly with a stupid ecstatic grin on his face, he said breathily "Ahh baby...yeah..." and then laughed again. Haha! He did love seeing her blush.
And then the door opened and the smells of dinner drifted in. Ma had left something on the stove- probably a stew. Which meant she'd be out the rest of the night. Arkady was probably off with his buddies or something. Kid was only 11 and not part of any of his stuff (though he wanted to). There were rules about that sort of thing. Street justice was merciless and there were no protections or rights. He was safe.
The small kitchen was fairly clean. Good. Ma hadn't messed it up too much since he'd cleaned it before he went out this morning. And Arkady hadn't left any clothes on the floor. Not like he was a neat freak. But it wasn't hard to keep things looking presentable if you kept up with the little stuff.
He limped in with Nina's help, touching his fingers to his lips and then to the statue of the Virgin on the table next to the door. The walls had a few icons- not with any gold or jewels or anything, just colored glass and gold painted plastic. A table with books that he never touched. Not his thing. Some fake flowers in a vase. He'd gotten them for Ma a few months ago. Real ones never lasted. She liked the bright colors.
It was a small apartment but it was home. Where he felt at peace. He limped over to the kitchen with her help and despite the strain, reached back into the cupboard and felt around for a jar. Arkady thought that it was just for salt. Which kept it safe, obviously. He pulled out a wrapped pastry. It was only from yesterday and taken from a convenience store so it probably coulda spent months in there and be good to eat.
He handed it to her, face showing some shame. "Look...It's not much. It's all I have at the moment. It was something I was saving for a special occasion." He smiled ar her, looking deep into her eyes, and he leaned into her a bit. "But I think you're a special occasion." Ok. Maybe corny. Who the hell cared.
The moment seemed to drag out. Here he is probably dyin' and what-not. But damn, if you're gonna die, in the arms of an angel is a pretty fucking good place to do it, he figured. Fuck yeah. Let me die with a beautiful woman beside me, he prayed to the Mother.
He was only half joking.
The quiet of the moment was punctured by the sound of her stomach rumbling. His mouth split and he laughed, hugging her into his chest despite the pain to give her cover. He was sure she was embarrassed. "Aww. Come on. Have some stew first. Ma's specialty. Then dessert."
[Nina modded and grumbling with permission ;-)]