Hellfire ✞ a.f.i.

3: kleptomaniac

It's so easy to blow up your problems
It's so easy to play up your breakdown
It's so easy to fly through a window
It's so easy to fool with the sound

Moving in Stereo; The Cars

          Luke has always much prefered to lag behind. He doesn't mingle with the crowds; he only watches the people within them. He prefers blending in. He prefers taking his time. He likes to get his targets alone before he strikes. That time would come soon enough. Ashton is more than capable of recruiting this particular target on his own.

         Just before Ashton lurked behind Eden deep within the Fremont, the blue-eyed fallen angel had walked alongside his partner down the Strip, constantly watching. The Vegas lights cannot conceal the rot within these people; not from Luke.

          He sees a middle-aged man shuffling towards the plethora of exotic clubs, decorated with seductive neon signs, the man is obviously on his first outing of infidelity. Luke can see the nervousness in his shaking steps. He sees a young woman, and the intoxicated fumes she breathes out. He scoffs. Humans have never been able to handle their liquor.

         With a twinge of disgust, he remembers how his past mortal form used to reject alcohol as well. Fuck; shove that memory back down, deep.

         Luke would much rather be fucking relaxing, reclined on a rooftop with a glass of merlot. He would rather be still. He would rather observe from afar.

         Alas, he cannot afford to do so. Not with what is at stake for him.

         He cannot afford to fuck this up.

         To alleviate his vivacious mind, he starts watching his partner, who is a few long strides in front of him. They never traveled right next to each other; too conspicuous. Too many possibilities for error.

         Ashton's hair has settled back down into its natural ebony hue. Anger and heat from his flames cause his locks to run blood red if he's not careful. It frustrates Luke that Ashton was promoted even with the presence of such a potentially obvious giveaway to their ranks. He supposes it doesn't matter. Every fallen angel possesses the ability to cloak.

         Some demons are just more careful than others.

         As the two approach the Fremont, Luke catches up with Ashton, just close enough so the hazel-eyed demon can hear him. The red light casts Luke in a beautiful, sinful glow. Ashton reaches into the pocket of his dark blue slacks, and pulls out his years-torn rawhide wallet, making sure he possesses at least some cash.

         "I'll signal for you if I need you." Ashton's head turns just slightly to his right, enough for Luke to get a quick glance at the elder demon's side profile. Ashton shoves his wallet back in its place.