Chapter Text
Floyd listened to your steady breathing, light and easy. A stark contrast of what had occurred earlier. It was the only thing keeping his thoughts from spiraling out of control. Floyd had never had an issue with second guessing himself. In fact he rarely gave anything much of a second thought. He reacted almost purely on his emotions, whether it be something he deemed interesting, boring, or annoying. His mind on a topic was made up within seconds. While some may say he operated with no impulse control, he acted by his own nature and rarely, if ever, deferred from that perspective.
Floyd was not an idiot. Or dumb or naive or childish or whatever other bullshit names people who knew nothing about his life, used to describe him. On the contrary he was a genius. All the talent and intuition of a prodigal son without any of the charisma or enthusiasm behind it. So when you came back into his life, he was over the moon.
He no longer had to endure the dullness of the family business and all the tediousness that went with it. He had lost touch with you after school. He and Jade joined their father in cleaning up messes. Azul joined as well, acting as the financial advisor. His many restaurants and businesses acted as a front for money laundering, drug importation, and arms dealings. The rumors of prostitution also spread throughout the seedier parts of town with no hard evidence to be found.
He ran into you years after university graduation, choosing to stay on land and drink a potion every week to stay as a human. He was a man now, who enjoyed fucking almost as much as fighting. He must have been a sight for you at the time. His tattered suit was covered in blood, saliva, and the secretions of whatever woman whose legs he was between earlier in the evening. He was walking down a deserted street with the intention of heading home.
“Floyd? Is that you?” You looked him up and down. “You’re hurt.”
He recalled you saying that and he laughed because no he wasn’t. Almost none of the blood was his own. It belonged to the ten or so men he beat within an inch of their lives for daring to skim some money off the top from a recent drug import. He retrieved the money and sent a message loud and clear to anyone else who dared to steal from the Leeches.
He stopped walking and turned to face you on the opposite side of the narrow street. It took a moment for it to register in his brain who you were. You were still small. At least compared to Floyd. Though he towered over most people anyway. You hadn’t changed much. Longer hair and you filled out your clothes more now or maybe it was not having to wear hand me down clothes courteous of Crowley. And damn were you pretty. That was something he had forgotten, along with all the other memories he’d buried with time and booze.
“Hey Shrimpy. Long time no see huh?” He waited for your reaction. Surely you’d run away scared or try to call the police. He’d have to stop you. Though he didn’t want it to come to that. Anything but that. Anyone but you. He felt his skin start to heat up.
You laughed at the nickname. And damn if the sound of it didn’t shoot through his veins like a shot of whiskey. He could get drunk off that sound, like tinkling bells.
“Yeah, it’s been a while. You sure you’re okay?” Your head tilted to the side attempting to evaluate his condition. “That’s a lot of blood.”
“Yep, all good. You should see the other guy though. Say what’re ya doing out past midnight? Pretty little thing like ya shouldn’t be out alone. ‘Specially not around here.”
You shrugged ignoring his comment. “Missed the last train. I went out with some friends after work for drinks and I got on the wrong train line. Feels like I’ve been walking in circles.”
Floyd nodded his head in understanding. Though in reality he was still riding the high from your voice and the bump of coke he did before committing some ten counts of aggravated assault. “Yeah this area’s a shithole. Come on. I’ll give ya a ride.” He walked toward an alleyway, the sound of your footsteps behind him.
“Really? Thank you. I can give you some money for gas.”
“Don’t worry about it. We’re friends right? Not gonna charge ya for something like that.” And the thought was almost laughable. What kind of cheap bastard would he be if he charged you money for a ride?
He watched your eyes widen at the sight of his sports car. “This is your car? It’s so cool looking.“ You ran a hand over the hood, marveling at the blue paint job.
He felt warmth blossom in his chest and spread up to his neck. It felt nice. He missed this. Feeling anything at all had been harder to come by. He’d been in this lifestyle for over five years now and he was already burnt out from it. Alcohol and whatever drugs were easiest to come by had become a habitual part of his life. After two years, the constant fighting had grown tedious. It was fun to have an opponent fight back or at least when Azul kept him on a leash, at least he had something to look forward to. Now the fighting had become more political and less interesting in the process.
“This,” he said, slapping the roof, “is my baby. Come on, get in.” Floyd unlocked his car and opened the door for you before getting in the driver’s seat. He followed the directions you gave him to your apartment.
The drive was pleasant. At least for Floyd it was. He knew you could smell him. The small grimace you made told him the stench of blood and sweat and sex wafting off of him was not something you enjoyed. He had grown so used to the smell it became known as his signature cologne among the others in their gang organization. He rolled the windows down for you. The air whipped against his face pulling his focus back to the road instead of watching you.
You told him about your job at some cafe. He had to hold back a laugh when you offered to give him a free drink and pastry, as though he couldn’t order the entire menu with the money in his wallet and have enough left over to buy the place. And you lived with a couple roommates to be able to afford rent. His pulse quickened at that. He could take care of you. A shitty job, a lousy apartment, and no car? No. He’d have to change that.
Inside the apartment was worse than he thought. It was cramped. And it’s not just due to his size. The fact that you had roommates made it all the worse. Or maybe Floyd was used to large penthouses and large, empty rooms. He sat in your living room while you headed to the kitchen for refreshments.
“Nice place ya got here.” The lie slipped easily from his lips. A common occurrence in his line of work. It was second nature to him by now. But in this case it wasn’t a lie to ensure control over a threat, it was a lie to keep you at ease. Pleasant small talk that he never quite mastered and didn’t much care for anyway.
“Thank you. I know it’s not much, but it’s all I can afford right now. Things have been a little hectic since graduation.”
Floyd watched you set down two glasses of tea on the small coffee table and take a seat opposite him. He’d rather have something stronger. The high from earlier had worn off and the static he’s tried to ignore had begun to creep at the corner of his mind. He hadn’t anticipated bumping into you. If he didn’t, he’d be home with a glass of liquor and cigarette. “I don’t suppose I can trouble ya for something with a little bite to it?”
Your body language altered from that statement. His eyes stay glued to you. Perhaps it wasn’t anger you exuded, but he definitely heard the disdain in your voice when you spoke.
“How about you bite me instead. Ass.”
That managed to pull a laugh out of Floyd. A loud barking laugh that used the muscles in his abdomen. The apartment was too small to contain it, rattling the windows and filling the space like a third occupant. ”Kitty has claws I see. Good. Still interesting after all these years.”
He stood from the chair, downing the tea in one breath, his Adam’s apple bobbing with each gulp. “Don’t wanna take up too much of your time. Those roommates of yours should be home soon, yeah?”
You nodded, watching him with your mouth slightly open. The whiplash in the conversation had thrown you off balance. “Yeah they should be here in about 15 minutes. I can intro—“
“No need. Might make them uncomfortable coming home to a guy like me here.”
He watched you avert your eyes into your lap. A smile crept onto his lips as you didn’t even try to pretend you weren’t thinking the same thing. “Tell you what. Next time I’ll take us out and we can get some real drinks. My treat alright?”
He didn’t wait for you to answer before heading to the front door. He crossed the room in barely three steps and shut the door behind him, cutting off whatever it was you were going to say. He deemed it unimportant.
A week later Floyd showed up to your job. A small cafe in a nicer area than where you lived. But still not as nice as where he lived. The small bell jingled as he opened the door. The smell of coffee and yeast hit his nose. The decor was neutral and boring. The type of shit every piece of media displayed as modern and minimalistic. Boring.
He watched you make drinks like you were brewing a chemical concoction. He reveled in the way your eyes flashed in confusion and fear once they landed on him.
“Hi Floyd.” There was a crack in your customer service smile. “What can I get you?”
“Your shift is almost over right?“ Of course he knew you’d be off in 20 minutes. He already had your schedule memorized. He didn’t wait for you to respond. “Let’s go clubbing tonight.”