No Strings Attached

In Over Your Head

Holy shit its been a while.

Haven't really got any excuses. I just had other things occupying my time recently. I'll understand if some of y'all aren't as interested in this story after so long without an update, but any who stick around I hope you have fun reading.

I was seemingly gone so long that a Roman and Neo book also came out. I haven't read it yet so I don't know how things go, but obviously my story will be a separate entity from that book since they no doubt follow a different story. Anyways, hope you enjoy!

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Ch ch

The sound rung out in the warehouse as another gun was locked and loaded, joining with the rest of the sounds filling your base of operations as the final preparations for the Dust heist were underway.

White Fang higher ups overlooked maps, pointing out flight paths for the airship pilots to follow to the letter.

Recruits rushed about, stocking up their allies with ammunition and Dust.

And you?

You were sat up...

...your feet kicked up on a table...

...not doing a damn thing.

Roman had made his decision.

You heard a large thud as a crate was loaded onto the airship near to you, looking from the corner of your eye to see Torchwick himself getting his hands dirty.

Roman: "...buncha slow unorganized animals..."

He mumbled his grievances to himself until he spotted you, walking over and putting on a sarcastic tone.

Roman: "Oh by all means, relax, let us do all the work. It's not like we have anywhere to be or anything!"

You: "Sounds like a plan to me"

You paid him no mind, browsing through your scroll much to his annoyance.

Roman: "You want to throw a tantrum? Fine. But the least you can do is help us load up and do it while we're gone"

Again, you had no plans to do him any favours, scratching the side of your nose with your middle finger aimed straight towards him nonchalantly.

Roman: "...real mature"

You: "Mhmmm..."

Knowing he was going to get nowhere, he went on his way, with you enjoying the sight of him forced into manual labour due to his own shoddy management skills at running things.

You checked the time.

It wouldn't be long until the shipment would arrive at the docks.

The shipment you had painstakingly staked out, and gathered information on...

...only to be 'benched'.

Your attention was drawn away from your phone as you caught a figure next to you.

Neo.

You had barely seen anything of her since she had gotten back from her exploits with Roman, part of you wondering why she was keeping her distance, but not enough to care.

Trying to predict how she'd act was an unwinnable game.

You: "Oh great, it's my warden for the evening. What do you want?"

Neither of you were the types to mince your words...or at the very least in Neo's case, her actions.

But something seemed off about her...almost as if she was reluctant to talk with you.