King of Hearts (House of Cards Series 2) [Student/teacher]

Seven of Clubs

West checked the watch on his wrist for the sixth time, finally admitting to himself that he might be a little bit nervous. He hadn't seen Maddison since the night they said they were gonig to just be friends, and then ended up in bed together again anyways. It wasn't that they hadn't wanted to explore their friendship, just that Maddison was dedicating as much time as she could to her dance troupe, knowing that she had to make up for the time off due to foot injury.

 Despite the lack of time together, West could look at his phone and see that all but two of the several hundred texts he'd sent and received over the last week or so were Maddison. His 'la had asked him about it, wondering who it was that "so often brought a smile to his face", as she put it.

A car horn honked wildly, trying to get his attention and West felt an incredulous grin spread over his face as he finally got to see Maddison's "car". It was a Gremlin. Probably one of the ugliest cars ever created and West could see where Maddison had 'improved' upon the original design. {A/N: Image to the side is of a standard gremlin}

The white body of the car had been left scuzzy and dingey looking, but over top the white, Maddison had somehow found a way to paint the iconic movie poster image from the original Conan the Barbarian. West walked around the front of her car, looking at the amazingly well done image, laughing to himself.

"Are you laughing at Arnie?" Maddison asked him, eyes narrowed.

West shook his head, still chuckling. "Not even a little. I think I'm laughing at his bimbo though. That looks painful." he flicked the chainmail bikini she was garbed in.

Maddison smiled at him. "I named my car Arnie. Don't mock it or you'll feel my wrath." she tried to mimic Arnold's accent for the last three words and failed miserably. Still West continued laughing at it and hopped in the passenger seat.

He wasn't a good passenger. First of all, he was too nervous not being in control of the vehicle. Secondly, he really hated sitting shotgun while a woman drove, sexist but true. And finally, he truely hated small cars. It felt like he was sitting in a paper cup, waiting for bigger, heavier vehicles to just run them over. Still West kept his mouth shut over his complaints, trying to just enjoy the company.

Maddison rolled down her window despite the cold air and screamed out at the driver that cut her off, trying to avoid a little snow. She even shook her fist out the window at the other car and West clutched at the grip on the door, knuckles white as her car swerved in response to her erratic movements. "Anyone ever tell you you're subtle?" he asked, eyebrows raised.

Mad looked at him, then back to the road, a smile tugging at her mouth. "If you mean subtle as a train wreck, then yes." she shrugged. "I cry when I'm sad, I laugh when I'm happy, I scream when I'm mad and I gasp when I'm surprised. Anything wrong with that?"

West shook his head. "Not at all. Anything less than that isn't real." he looked out the side window and didn't see the look Maddison gave him. "If I have to pick between feeling every emotion strongly or feeling nothing at all, I'd rather take the bad with the good. Better than the quiet numbness..." his voice trailed off.

He didn't want to tell her about his past, afraid that it might change the way she looked at him. He hadn't always been this... three dimentional. When he ran with Reaper and the gang he had been the Cuban kid. Everybody's little brother, and yet entirely alone. It had made him tough but cold. They taught him ot rely only ever on himself. Be there for your gang yes, always, they are the family you choose, second only to blood. But never depend on them coming to get you. So he had learned that lesson but too well.

When he had returned to Cuba to live with his Abuela, he had fallen in with Los Santos as if they were waiting for the prodigal son to return. And he didn't start out the kid this time. He walked into their ranks like it was their job to make a spot for him. He wasn't their executioner, and he wasn't a thug. But somewhere in between. He was the one Los Santos that all the others slightly feared. Because Julian, their titular leader at the time, had given him the job of being everyone's boogey man. When he got into fights with the 'other side', he fought as if her were one man against an army. He didn't kill people, he broke them and cast them aside. And then that one night he'd broken even his own rule...