"How pitiful, a bandit who thinks they can run," they utter, their voice scratchy like sandpaper.
or
An unfortunate encounter between a mercenary and a journalist and their journey together.
"Holy shit, marry me."
"Whoa, at least take me to dinner first."
They didn't like each other, hated each other even, couldn't stand each other. Shit happened and all it could amount to was that it really be like that sometimes.