Bound to End in Perdition || AU || Smith and Blue
The brunet stood up from the chair he had sat in (for the past, well, God knows how long – ten hours? Yeah, that seems about right) for longer than his co-workers had in theirs, a slight, squeaking noise being noticed as he did so. Something weighed the inner corners of his brows down at this, maybe it was just because he was so on edge after receiving that damned manila folder, and the figure that he had to not just research but lead an investigation on. Stark gulped at this, letting his tongue dart out from between too-dry lips before letting it return to where it had been before, his jaw clenching soon after that. Slightly calloused fingers grabbed his coat in a single, swift and faintly erratic motion, and he moved it to his shoulders, slipping his arms into them and buttoning it up along with pulling on his black, leather gloves. A small breath slipped through his teeth and said pair of lips, one of contentment? - No, of course not, he was never content – always work until you find the very root of everything, no sleep, you might not have motivation in the morning. Of course he wouldn’t, he would be too damn tired to care.
The shadows were more than a means to stay out of sight even with the cover of darkness curled tightly around him. The shadows were like a second skin, sticking to him and melding to his body, a perfect fit every time. Loki felt the most alive in the little forgotten places where the sun could not touch. They were his element, his world in a sense.
He was in complete control whenever backed up with their spindly tendrils and comforting hands.
Loki sighed happily as he trailed after the detective, well practiced in the art of following without being seen. It helped that the poor man was sleep deprived. Considering the three hours Loki doing a mindless circuit while he waited, Stark, as he was called, was being more obsessive than normal. He knew how his target functioned, almost as intimately as he knew his own schedule and little quirks.
The man’s eyes opened slowly and hesitantly as he heard the shrill sound of the set alarm in the digital clock of his, a small, murmured, unpleasant word slipping through his dry lips at the sound – damn, and right as he managed to drift off into a light sleep. Stark rolled over to the opposing side of the bed then (for he had no lover and could take up as much room as he pleased.), lazily lifting his arm before letting his hand drop onto the alarm clock, sitting up and rubbing at his brows soon after. “Damn…” he murmured, one of the less obscene words that left his mouth.
The man slowly moved to the edge of the bed before standing up, walking towards the bathroom in his apartment, yawning once and brushing off the fact that it would’ve been polite if he covered his mouth – but he was here alone, and he didn’t really give a damn at the moment. Stark bent over the tub in the cramped bathroom then, twisting the nozzle for the hot water along with the cool – and the shower after he pulled away, of course, just so he wouldn’t be sprayed with the pressurized stream of liquid, soaking the light clothing he wore – but hey, at least it wasn’t a full on suit, right? The tee-shirt was disposed of then, lying on the tiled floor in some sort of sad way, but hey, it didn’t matter.
Stark slid his boxers off as well then, stepping out of them before making his way into the tub, letting the water fall onto his head – it was calming, yeah, it was the most calming thing in his day… yet he was alone with his thoughts, and he was afraid of them more than anything else at times, if not all of the time. The investigator kept himself busy with other things, his head being occupied so that he wouldn’t have to think about – shit.
The man took in a deep breath and exhaled shakily, frowning deeply as he washed his hair and body, which meant, yeah, a slight headache from doing that for so long, well, not that a ten minute shower was long – headaches just developed so quickly for him… maybe it was from bottling up his feelings, thoughts, emotions – but he could empty a bottle instead, a bottle of – no, he couldn’t drink this damn early in the morning.
As soon as he turned the water off, he grabbed a towel, drying off before he moved to pull on a white button down, a black blazer, a dark blue tie, black dress shoes and black socks. Stark made his way to grab the briefcase again, the same hat, and he was ready to go.
The man had decided to walk to the same old coffee shop today (for it wasn’t raining, and it was a decent temperature – a bit overcast, but that wasn’t the worst thing in the world.), stepping in with a small sigh, noticing that the sun had decided to peek out – which wasn’t a bad thing, just an observation. Tony made his way to the counter, ordering a plain, black coffee, which was easy enough to make, along with grabbing a packet of sugar. A moment or so passed and the man turned around, catching a glimpse of a surprising familiar sight – wait -.
Stark frowned a little before he moved to walk in front of the man, a shiver going down his spine. The investigator was going to sit down for a minute or so, if not five or ten – but… god, this man looked just like -.
And with that, the brunet was heading out of the door, hailing a taxi as soon as he could.
