"There you go, like that. Now toss it. You just – oh my god, idiota, what did I say earlier about your stance?"
"Ugh, I thought I was getting it." You stopped concentrating and simply flung the knife without a care. "I'm tired of this. Can we do something else, Luci?"
He ignored your remarks and gawked at where your knife had lodged. "Holy shit. You're almost at the bull's-eye."
After a moment, he spun around and waved it off with a snarky look. "Whatever. Just luck." He snidely adjusted his shirt collar, and you guessed this was his equivalent to Flavio's sassy hair flip.
At times, you could hardly believe they were related. They had clashing personalities, but it was impossible not to notice they were both high-maintenance. This Vargas was dressed sharp as usual – just like his older brother – but his style of fashion was a lot more masculine compared to Flavio's.
The auburn-haired Italian was wearing a designer gray vest over a navy blue-and-white gingham shirt, straight-leg Diesel jeans with a brown leather belt, brown combat boots, and silver jewelry. Several rings and a Rolex watch adorned him, as well as white-gold earrings.
"Can we get out of here?" You two were in an alleyway that was covered in graffiti. Street names, slang, gang symbols, and targets were some of the many things spray-painted on the worn brick walls.
"Fine. But what else is there to do in this shithole?" He irritably kicked a wall as he started on the closest way out.
"Wow, you're so optimistic. I can see this is why we hang out so much." You mentioned sarcastically.
He rolled his eyes. "Not to be rude, bella, but you're one of them. No wonder you get along with Allen, Zao, and Lutz so much."
"But they're your friends too, right?" You caught up to the bossy Italian and walked side-by-side with him. "I never see you with anyone else. You're a part of the squad, admit it.~" You joked lightly.
He growled, "I only hang out with them because they live the closest. And we go to school together... and I've known them too long. And they're not in jail or in hiding like other people I know."
"Oh, sure." Maybe he just doesn't want to admit they're all good friends, him included. A tight-knit circle. He was pretty stubborn, after all. And he had a tendency to act as though he didn't like any of them. Honestly speaking, he must have nobody else.
"Anyway," His eerie magenta irises fell on you. "...Wanna go get coffee?"
You almost laughed. And I used to think he was so intimidating, you recalled. "Sure. Where's your car parked?"
You'd been bored in your room earlier when you received a text from him saying he was at the store across from your house and if you wanted to "join him or what bitch..." which was his nice way of requesting you to accompany him for awhile.
You were sure he didn't live here in Chinatown, but he definitely resided close by. So, you'd done a few errands with him, and afterward, he asked if you wanted to learn how to throw knives, which went okay for a bit, until he got too strict and spicy about it.
"I'm parked right outside the district. Let's go."
As you walked with him, you asked, "So why did you have all these errands to run by yourself? They seemed like the kinds of things parents would do, not teenagers. Plus, where's your brother? He likes coming here doesn't he?"
"He does. And because it's my responsibility," He gave you a side-glance. "Our parents moved out."
You nearly stopped walking. 'Our parents moved out'? "...What the hell?"
YOU ARE READING
Dragon District: 2P!China x Reader
FanfictionWhen you moved to Chinatown, San Francisco, you never expected to meet such an intriguing group of people that you'd soon come to call your friends. You never expected to meet an opium-addicted Chinese flirt and eventually fall for him, either. (Gen...