harderdaddy | (Reply)

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[ pissed is an understatement. valentino tilts his head slowly as angel stretches his leg out, and for a moment, it doesn't immediately register that what he's looking at isn't just some cheap lipstick. but a messy dollar store lipstain doesn't explain angel's averted gaze and his overall hesitance to mention it. valentino's brows pinch, and he reaches out with one hand to touch the inside of angel's knee, pushing his leg out just the tiniest bit more for a better look.

he should have done more. valentino should have taken that revolver and emptied that entire chamber into those fucks. the head wound was one thing - still unacceptable, but easily concealed, easily healed - but if valentino had known about this while any of those men were still alive, he might have gone fucking ballistic. just pure, blacked out rage.

val's jaw tenses, teeth clenched hard. one of his hands curls into a tight fist, claws biting into his own palm. he knows exactly how many weapons were in that room - the only people seemingly smart enough to keep theirs hidden until an opportunity presented itself were valentino and angel - and there was only one knife, as far as he could tell. the same one sitting against his lower back now, tucked away in his belt.

when he speaks, it's sharp, but his malevolence doesn't seem to be directed at angel specifically. ]

Get up. [ he takes his hand away from angel's knee - and then offers it to him. ] Come here. Now.