Orin scowled, taking a step closer, sizing up his target. Seymour was small, certainly weak, possibly slower. He wouldn’t know how to fight, at least as far as Orin knew.
“You’re crossing a line, kid. You don’t want to go there.” His words came out as a dangerous hiss, and he found himself swaying slightly in his advance. With one hand idly running along the counter, casually blocking off the path around him, he seemed snakelike and unhinged- unpredictable and ready to lash out at any moment. At the moment, Seymour had some hold on the only two things he wanted: his nitrous oxide, and Audrey, who was obviously drawn to his gentle air by the same natural frailty that caused her to seek whatever path offered least resistance, regardless of cost.
Orin had once been that path. He was her security at the Gutter; a deterrent to the men who would try to follow her home or harass her. With his gaze fixed on her, she seemed less real to them. She was his girl, and so to the others she became fantasy. No one wanted to argue with a sadistic, drug-addicted dentist.
Except, apparently, Seymour.
1 year ago 32 notes