chaotic good

some bourbon

based on a Pinterest prompt I found

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'I'm way too sober for this shit'

He reached over to pick up a cheap bottle of whiskey that sat on the bedside table but a gloved leather hand snatched the bottle from his reach. The woman who had entered was not a stranger in any aspects. He knew it was her from the second that she entered the room. The telltale sound of heels on wood. He looked up from his position on the bed. The girl was very beautiful in a dangerous way, like how one might say a gun was lovely. Ironically, concealed in the folds of her red dress, was a loaded pistol. Her lips curved into a smirk and she took in his helplessness. It amused her and he knew it but was in no position to do anything about it.

'Suck it up, we got shit to do.'

The girl brought the bottle to her lips and took a long drink. He face contorted into an expression of disgust. She dropped the half drunk bottle on the ground, pieces of glass littered the edge of the bed and the amber liquid seeping through the wood.

'What the fuck? Your taste in alcohol was the only good thing about you and you've managed to lose that too?'

He groaned and stood up. He did his best to straighten his suit and navy blue tie. Expertly, he felt for his knife under the pillow and expertly incorporated it into the pocket of his crumpled blazer.

'Be a nice little shit and get me breakfast will you?'

She strolled closer so that they were centimetres apart. His hand automatically went to the knife concealed in the folds of his suit. She leaned in and whispered.

'Darling, you shouldn't have brought a knife to a gun fight'

A satisfying click of the barrel of a gun confirmed her point. He glanced down to see the Browning Hi-power model of 1935 pointed straight at his chest. He closed his eyes, frustrated but not surprised that she had one. He subconsciously clenched his jaw and reopened his eyes. Internally, he applauded her choice of weapon, the gun was elegant and classy yet deadly. It was a weapon that he would have chosen himself. He eyed his own gun on the other side of the room, place with case files and other such documents.

'Has nobody told you it's dangerous to keep a loaded firearm in the fold's of one's dress?'

'How would you know, you don't wear a dress'

He turned away and swiftly back again as he remember the gun.

'What the fuck do you want?'

The girl sighed.

'Personally, I want to sleep or eat donuts til I puke but as you can tell, that's not an option'

'Well, I want you to leave me out of your bullshit. And some breakfast, if you wouldn't mind'

They stare at each other. He cocked his head to the side and gave her a cocky smile. She turned away and rolled his eyes, annoyed by his incompetence.

'You've always been a difficult son of a bitch but I respect you for what you once was. So fine. What do you want?'

'A decent bottle of alcohol'

She pulls out a flask from her polished long leather boots. They fit perfectly with her red dress and her gloves. She threw the silver flask behind and he caught it in a swift and graceful movement of an arm.

'I never go out without some'

He looked at her turned back for a long time but eventually accepted her offer. The strong taste of bourbon was the best thing he'd had in weeks and he was extremely grateful for it.

'If there's more of that where we're going then count me in'

The girl turned and tucked her gun away in its holster.

'You're in luck. That's exactly where were going'

The boy flicked his knife.

'And where would that be exactly?'

'Well that's for me to know and for you to find out'

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