valentines
I didn’t know what to do on this day.
I knew people made cards--wasn’t doin’ that.
Wasn’t buying any, either. Save my money for better things.
I didn’t think he would have wanted something like that, anyhow. Didn’t seem like the professor. Sentimental and dripping with charm and enticement--nearly made me sick thinking on it.
That was my dilemma, however. What if he was expecting something?
Sometimes, the professor had a funny way of acting. He wouldn’t tell me, so much, what he wanted. He’d rather me suss it out at times. Like he was trying to develop me into something better. Of course, if it was strict to his plans he’d fill me in on every detail, but for smaller things…
And if I didn’t do as he wanted, I’d hear from him later.
So better safe than sorry.
-----
I lurked at his university, then.
Which wasn’t entirely unusual. I lurked there on a number of occasions, both solicited and otherwise. It was just easier to catch him in that fashion rather than waiting for him to come to me, and usually then I could badger him into catching a meal afterward.
This time I was on business, however, and I chucked out my cigarette, stomping it carefully with my bootheel in the grass before stepping forward, noting my mark.
I was at his side before he’d realised it. He was younger than me by a handful of years or more, yet he had the cockiness of youth, shrugging off his surprise quickly and smirking at me as he curtly greeted me. I noted he quickened his pace and grinned sharply to myself. That was hardly going to work.
I cut him off, then, stepping in front of him so that he stopped. “You go here for mathematics, right?”
“Among other things, I do.”
“So…you’d have some textbooks, maybe? Rare books? Books you ‘ad to read to help with your class?” I asked affably and the boy--’cos that’s what he looked like to me, really--the boy shrugged.
“’Course I do. I kind of have to, don’t I?” he said sarcastically, and I realised that I had not quite shifted my personas properly.
Here’s the thing. If you want to live successfully doing what I do, you need to be able to do two things. You need to be able to properly blend into a crowd, to disappear at the drop of a hat if need be. You also needed to be able to threaten.
And mean it.
It did you no good to caution that you were going to break some man’s elbow if you didn’t believe it, and so I took a quick step forward. He stepped back reciprocally.
Good.
“Empty out your bag, then.”
“Why would I do that?” he asked me, a spark of fear in his eyes. He was still holding his ground, however. “I could scream, you know. We’re right here.”
“I know,” I said unconcerned, and I slid my gaze around, watching two men walk away only yards from us. “Doesn’t bother me any. If you make any noise at all--any sound whatsoever--I’ll hunt you down and really make you proper regret it. Understand? I just want a book, is all, but if you inconvenience me, I’ll make you pay,” I said calmly, meeting his eyes.
With shaking hands the man withdrew four books and I shuffled through them, humming to myself as I skimmed the titles. I didn’t know what I was looking for--it was like I was reading an entirely different language but I chose the third one and handed the others back, smiling at the man and waving it slightly in the air as I did so.
“You’ve been a big help,” I said, winking at him.
-----
I rapped at the door in front of me and when I had no answer I took the knob, turning it and peeping in.
“You know my scheduled hours--anything else and I’m busy,” was the voice thrust at me. I lingered just outside, still peeking in.
“I never know your hours,” I said by way of defense even though I knew he had assumed I was a student and then professor was looking up at me, a slight expression of bewilderment crossing his face before he frowned deeply.
“I don’t have anything else for you to do, Sebastian,” he said and then I had let myself in, shutting the door behind myself and running a hand along his bookshelf aimlessly, clutching the book I had wrested from the boy in my left hand as I did so. I could feel the man’s eyes upon me.
“That’s fine with me. I came by to give you something.”
“I assume the book you have in your hand,” he said, sounding bored. I stopped my motions and moved to his desk instead, setting it before him and pushing it forward.
“For you.”
“What--why?” he asked, eyes immediately narrowing in suspicion as he took it.
“I dunno--you like maths, I don’t--well, I don’t hate it but I don’t really have any need for it. So. I thought…you could have it,” I said, not entirely certain where I was taking my sentence as he leaned back in his seat, removing the spectacles he used at times to read documents.
“Sebastian, I already have this book.”
“Oh?” Damn.
“This--I use it in my class all the time. Where did you get it? I can’t imagine that you stepped into a shop asking for a book that dealt with mathematics in the use of physics. Did you steal this?”
“…I might have.”
He smiled slightly, pushing it back across the desk toward me. “Not certain as to what end you were doing so, but amusing nevertheless. Keep it for yourself. Read it. You might learn a thing or two. You’re most likely a far better student than whoever you removed it from, I can assure you of that. They’re all dunces, the lot of them. I could fail them all for the dreck I’ve received.”
I noted the papers in front of him and realised I must have come in the middle of him grading students. I took back the book even though I would have no use for it, taking a step back.
“Should I go?”
He simply gave me a look that I could read with no further explanation and then I left, mind whirring as to the possibilities of what I could do next.
-----
I returned an hour or so later.
“Back again? Have you done as you’re supposed to?”
“Not exactly,” I said, and he frowned. Before he could speak, I cut him off. “I have it planned out better, I’m afraid. And I’m heading out for that right after this, actually.”
“After what?” he asked quizzically, narrowing his eyes but not slowing his pace any as we hurried down the hallway. I reached into my waistcoat pocket and fumbled slightly, nearly dropping them but then triumphantly flashing the tickets at the man.
He stopped, then, and took them, reading quickly over the paper. “Don Carlos? Hm. Already seen it, thank you.”
He gave them back to me and I wasn’t quite certain what to do with them. He looked back at me. “What?”
“The lady said it’d be good.”
“Well, I don’t know about that,” he sniffed, looking thoughtful. “It was a bit slow in some parts. I’ve finished here. Care to join me?”
I did, but then if I took him up on his offer I might miss my narrow opportunity to follow through on the task he had set forth to me earlier which would only bring about his wrath later.
I shook my head in declination. “Plans, Professor. I’ve plans.”
He didn’t seem entirely put out as he walked off, but then again the professor had always been rather cool and hard to read. I watched him walk away before turning on my heel in the opposite direction, ready to feel the heft of a gun in my hands once more. A familiar, comforting sensation as opposed to the mess I’d made thus far today.
-----
The blood was hot on my hands. It had long since dried and yet seemed to burn at me, reminding me of the kill that I had done and exhilarating me in the process. It had been ages since I’d come into such close contact with a kill, and even longer since I’d done something like that and yet I was thoroughly satisfied and content, even, as I found my way to the professor’s flat.
He had a number of little niches spread out across London, and I carried the knowledge that no one save myself knew all of his hidey holes. When I entered I found him busy away at some book, and he barely glanced up at me, bored and sat behind his desk as he flicked a page.
“I expect you’ve come by to say you’ve done well?”
“I’ve proof,” I said and at this he took some notice, sitting up as I placed a box on his desk. I could see that he didn’t trust the contents within and I smirked a little, pushing it forward gently. “Go on, then. Didn’t bring it to just look at. It won’t hurt you.”
He opened it slowly as though I might possibly be wrong and pulled a face once he looked inside, shutting back the flap and looking up at me. “Really, Sebastian? A heart? What is the purpose?”
I floundered immediately, thinking he might have seen the connection. My dismay turned to a quick embarrassment intermingled with a defensiveness that had me speaking before I had properly thought, “I just wanted to show you. He’s dead. Bullet in the head. Bit easy, really.”
The professor tilted his head at my words, glancing up at me. “I am suspicious of you, Sebastian.”
“What? Why?” I asked as he tapped a slender finger on the top of the box, still looking up at me thoughtfully. He didn’t immediately speak.
“You give me proof for this kill?”
“Yes.”
“But no others. Never’ve you done so in the past. The logical conclusion would be that you’ve not done what I’ve been asking you to do.”
“Of course I have,” I said bad-temperedly as he continued to watch me.
“Then why do it in the first?” he said, and I said nothing. Didn’t want to admit why. I wasn’t sappy. “I simply assume that you’ve done as you’re told as that’s what you’re paid to do!”
“You didn’t like the man. I thought--”
“No, I hated the man. And he bungled my affairs one too many times. That’s why I would like every portion of him removed from my presence, thank you, Sebastian,” he said, pushing the box toward me.
I hesitated. I hadn’t wanted to play this card.
I really hadn’t wanted to play this card.
“Also I found this,” I said and he looked at me, intrigued.
“Found what?”
“Nothin’ much, really,” I said, pulling out the crumpled piece of paper and producing it for him.
“You ought to wash your hands,” he said absentmindedly as his fingertips brushed across my skin. “Must be rather sticky.”
He smoothed the paper out in front of himself and I fidgeted slightly, watching him. It had taken me the better part of an hour to try to figure out how to properly do a mathematical code. I knew that was the sort of thing he liked. I actually found it tedious. Annoying, really. Better just to say it than do all of these little number problems.
He tapped his pencil over it, jotting down a few things upon the paper. Only a few minutes passed before he glanced up at me and I assumed that he had cracked it.
“Well?” I said uncertainly. He frowned.
“It’s simplistic. Where did you find this?”
“Er. Next to--”
“Well. No wonder,” he said, pushing it aside.
“Did you finish it?”
“I don’t need to. It’s really very simple. A sort of basic structure, you see. And I can’t imagine that he would have anything very important to say.”
“You’re not even gonna try it?” I asked as he picked up his book once more, leaning back in his seat.
“It appears so,” he said, and I despised the day even more greatly than I had started out doing. I swept past him only to be stopped by his voice. “Sebastian! Where are you off to?”
“Goin’ home. Bit tired tonight, professor.”
He gazed at me for a moment before shrugging and gesturing back to his desk. “Take that with you, then. I’ve no need for it.”
I dumped it out with some other rubbish on the way to my hotel room.
-----
I was roused and when I awoke I was immediately disoriented, forgetting my surroundings as I blinked in the darkness and everything came rushing back to me.
Right.
Hotel.
I yawned, scratching at my face until I heard a knocking. Judging by the sound, whoever it was had been knocking for some time. I debated letting them wait ‘til proper morning but then I got up as the knocking grew louder.
I stumbled, tripping over the boots that I had simply kicked off and made it to the door, hesitating for a moment before deciding to creak it open.
The professor stood out in the hallway and I blinked at what seemed like the harsh light from outside as he gave me a rather disappointed look.
“Professor? What--it’s--what time is it?”
“Three-oh-five,” he said and I sighed, tipping my head to the door.
“Whatever it is can wait ‘til the morning.”
“It can’t.”
“It can,” I insisted. I wasn’t scared of him--I could argue with him if I thought he wasn’t being fair. And he was not being fair.
“I know what you’ve been doing.”
“Sleeping?” I asked, bewildered. He gave me a pitying stare.
“No, Sebastian. The book. The tickets. That…heart. I know what day it is. What day it…was, I suppose now.”
I took pains not to look at him, embarrassed by my actions. It was entirely stupid of me and I didn’t know why I had done it in the first. I’d never done it before, and I don’t know why I had thought it would be wise to start now.
“What on earth possessed you to do that?”
“I don’t know,” I cried, dragging a hand down my face. “It was stupid. Can I sleep now, professor? We can talk about it tomorrow--”
“You might have just started off with this and saved yourself the trouble,” he said, holding out the paper that I’d given him. I looked at him warily.
“You know I lied? ‘Bout findin’ it with him?”
The professor smiled at me, wagging the bit of paper in the air between us before peering at it for reference. “I had assumed so, unless Johnson had entertained notions of ‘pushing me against a wall’ and so forth that I had otherwise not known about. Also, you had a bit of an error at one point but I think I got the gist of your message.”
I was embarrassed all over again for the writing that he had in his hand. Little more than smut. Hell, it was smut, and yet--and yet he seemed amused by it, putting me at ease as he gave me a look.
“Might I come in?” he asked, trying his best and failing at a sort of coyness. He’d never needed permission before and so I didn’t grant it to him this time, instead grabbing him by the collar and dragging him inward, kissing him roughly as he kicked the door shut behind himself.
-----
I knew people made cards--wasn’t doin’ that.
Wasn’t buying any, either. Save my money for better things.
I didn’t think he would have wanted something like that, anyhow. Didn’t seem like the professor. Sentimental and dripping with charm and enticement--nearly made me sick thinking on it.
That was my dilemma, however. What if he was expecting something?
Sometimes, the professor had a funny way of acting. He wouldn’t tell me, so much, what he wanted. He’d rather me suss it out at times. Like he was trying to develop me into something better. Of course, if it was strict to his plans he’d fill me in on every detail, but for smaller things…
And if I didn’t do as he wanted, I’d hear from him later.
So better safe than sorry.
-----
I lurked at his university, then.
Which wasn’t entirely unusual. I lurked there on a number of occasions, both solicited and otherwise. It was just easier to catch him in that fashion rather than waiting for him to come to me, and usually then I could badger him into catching a meal afterward.
This time I was on business, however, and I chucked out my cigarette, stomping it carefully with my bootheel in the grass before stepping forward, noting my mark.
I was at his side before he’d realised it. He was younger than me by a handful of years or more, yet he had the cockiness of youth, shrugging off his surprise quickly and smirking at me as he curtly greeted me. I noted he quickened his pace and grinned sharply to myself. That was hardly going to work.
I cut him off, then, stepping in front of him so that he stopped. “You go here for mathematics, right?”
“Among other things, I do.”
“So…you’d have some textbooks, maybe? Rare books? Books you ‘ad to read to help with your class?” I asked affably and the boy--’cos that’s what he looked like to me, really--the boy shrugged.
“’Course I do. I kind of have to, don’t I?” he said sarcastically, and I realised that I had not quite shifted my personas properly.
Here’s the thing. If you want to live successfully doing what I do, you need to be able to do two things. You need to be able to properly blend into a crowd, to disappear at the drop of a hat if need be. You also needed to be able to threaten.
And mean it.
It did you no good to caution that you were going to break some man’s elbow if you didn’t believe it, and so I took a quick step forward. He stepped back reciprocally.
Good.
“Empty out your bag, then.”
“Why would I do that?” he asked me, a spark of fear in his eyes. He was still holding his ground, however. “I could scream, you know. We’re right here.”
“I know,” I said unconcerned, and I slid my gaze around, watching two men walk away only yards from us. “Doesn’t bother me any. If you make any noise at all--any sound whatsoever--I’ll hunt you down and really make you proper regret it. Understand? I just want a book, is all, but if you inconvenience me, I’ll make you pay,” I said calmly, meeting his eyes.
With shaking hands the man withdrew four books and I shuffled through them, humming to myself as I skimmed the titles. I didn’t know what I was looking for--it was like I was reading an entirely different language but I chose the third one and handed the others back, smiling at the man and waving it slightly in the air as I did so.
“You’ve been a big help,” I said, winking at him.
-----
I rapped at the door in front of me and when I had no answer I took the knob, turning it and peeping in.
“You know my scheduled hours--anything else and I’m busy,” was the voice thrust at me. I lingered just outside, still peeking in.
“I never know your hours,” I said by way of defense even though I knew he had assumed I was a student and then professor was looking up at me, a slight expression of bewilderment crossing his face before he frowned deeply.
“I don’t have anything else for you to do, Sebastian,” he said and then I had let myself in, shutting the door behind myself and running a hand along his bookshelf aimlessly, clutching the book I had wrested from the boy in my left hand as I did so. I could feel the man’s eyes upon me.
“That’s fine with me. I came by to give you something.”
“I assume the book you have in your hand,” he said, sounding bored. I stopped my motions and moved to his desk instead, setting it before him and pushing it forward.
“For you.”
“What--why?” he asked, eyes immediately narrowing in suspicion as he took it.
“I dunno--you like maths, I don’t--well, I don’t hate it but I don’t really have any need for it. So. I thought…you could have it,” I said, not entirely certain where I was taking my sentence as he leaned back in his seat, removing the spectacles he used at times to read documents.
“Sebastian, I already have this book.”
“Oh?” Damn.
“This--I use it in my class all the time. Where did you get it? I can’t imagine that you stepped into a shop asking for a book that dealt with mathematics in the use of physics. Did you steal this?”
“…I might have.”
He smiled slightly, pushing it back across the desk toward me. “Not certain as to what end you were doing so, but amusing nevertheless. Keep it for yourself. Read it. You might learn a thing or two. You’re most likely a far better student than whoever you removed it from, I can assure you of that. They’re all dunces, the lot of them. I could fail them all for the dreck I’ve received.”
I noted the papers in front of him and realised I must have come in the middle of him grading students. I took back the book even though I would have no use for it, taking a step back.
“Should I go?”
He simply gave me a look that I could read with no further explanation and then I left, mind whirring as to the possibilities of what I could do next.
-----
I returned an hour or so later.
“Back again? Have you done as you’re supposed to?”
“Not exactly,” I said, and he frowned. Before he could speak, I cut him off. “I have it planned out better, I’m afraid. And I’m heading out for that right after this, actually.”
“After what?” he asked quizzically, narrowing his eyes but not slowing his pace any as we hurried down the hallway. I reached into my waistcoat pocket and fumbled slightly, nearly dropping them but then triumphantly flashing the tickets at the man.
He stopped, then, and took them, reading quickly over the paper. “Don Carlos? Hm. Already seen it, thank you.”
He gave them back to me and I wasn’t quite certain what to do with them. He looked back at me. “What?”
“The lady said it’d be good.”
“Well, I don’t know about that,” he sniffed, looking thoughtful. “It was a bit slow in some parts. I’ve finished here. Care to join me?”
I did, but then if I took him up on his offer I might miss my narrow opportunity to follow through on the task he had set forth to me earlier which would only bring about his wrath later.
I shook my head in declination. “Plans, Professor. I’ve plans.”
He didn’t seem entirely put out as he walked off, but then again the professor had always been rather cool and hard to read. I watched him walk away before turning on my heel in the opposite direction, ready to feel the heft of a gun in my hands once more. A familiar, comforting sensation as opposed to the mess I’d made thus far today.
-----
The blood was hot on my hands. It had long since dried and yet seemed to burn at me, reminding me of the kill that I had done and exhilarating me in the process. It had been ages since I’d come into such close contact with a kill, and even longer since I’d done something like that and yet I was thoroughly satisfied and content, even, as I found my way to the professor’s flat.
He had a number of little niches spread out across London, and I carried the knowledge that no one save myself knew all of his hidey holes. When I entered I found him busy away at some book, and he barely glanced up at me, bored and sat behind his desk as he flicked a page.
“I expect you’ve come by to say you’ve done well?”
“I’ve proof,” I said and at this he took some notice, sitting up as I placed a box on his desk. I could see that he didn’t trust the contents within and I smirked a little, pushing it forward gently. “Go on, then. Didn’t bring it to just look at. It won’t hurt you.”
He opened it slowly as though I might possibly be wrong and pulled a face once he looked inside, shutting back the flap and looking up at me. “Really, Sebastian? A heart? What is the purpose?”
I floundered immediately, thinking he might have seen the connection. My dismay turned to a quick embarrassment intermingled with a defensiveness that had me speaking before I had properly thought, “I just wanted to show you. He’s dead. Bullet in the head. Bit easy, really.”
The professor tilted his head at my words, glancing up at me. “I am suspicious of you, Sebastian.”
“What? Why?” I asked as he tapped a slender finger on the top of the box, still looking up at me thoughtfully. He didn’t immediately speak.
“You give me proof for this kill?”
“Yes.”
“But no others. Never’ve you done so in the past. The logical conclusion would be that you’ve not done what I’ve been asking you to do.”
“Of course I have,” I said bad-temperedly as he continued to watch me.
“Then why do it in the first?” he said, and I said nothing. Didn’t want to admit why. I wasn’t sappy. “I simply assume that you’ve done as you’re told as that’s what you’re paid to do!”
“You didn’t like the man. I thought--”
“No, I hated the man. And he bungled my affairs one too many times. That’s why I would like every portion of him removed from my presence, thank you, Sebastian,” he said, pushing the box toward me.
I hesitated. I hadn’t wanted to play this card.
I really hadn’t wanted to play this card.
“Also I found this,” I said and he looked at me, intrigued.
“Found what?”
“Nothin’ much, really,” I said, pulling out the crumpled piece of paper and producing it for him.
“You ought to wash your hands,” he said absentmindedly as his fingertips brushed across my skin. “Must be rather sticky.”
He smoothed the paper out in front of himself and I fidgeted slightly, watching him. It had taken me the better part of an hour to try to figure out how to properly do a mathematical code. I knew that was the sort of thing he liked. I actually found it tedious. Annoying, really. Better just to say it than do all of these little number problems.
He tapped his pencil over it, jotting down a few things upon the paper. Only a few minutes passed before he glanced up at me and I assumed that he had cracked it.
“Well?” I said uncertainly. He frowned.
“It’s simplistic. Where did you find this?”
“Er. Next to--”
“Well. No wonder,” he said, pushing it aside.
“Did you finish it?”
“I don’t need to. It’s really very simple. A sort of basic structure, you see. And I can’t imagine that he would have anything very important to say.”
“You’re not even gonna try it?” I asked as he picked up his book once more, leaning back in his seat.
“It appears so,” he said, and I despised the day even more greatly than I had started out doing. I swept past him only to be stopped by his voice. “Sebastian! Where are you off to?”
“Goin’ home. Bit tired tonight, professor.”
He gazed at me for a moment before shrugging and gesturing back to his desk. “Take that with you, then. I’ve no need for it.”
I dumped it out with some other rubbish on the way to my hotel room.
-----
I was roused and when I awoke I was immediately disoriented, forgetting my surroundings as I blinked in the darkness and everything came rushing back to me.
Right.
Hotel.
I yawned, scratching at my face until I heard a knocking. Judging by the sound, whoever it was had been knocking for some time. I debated letting them wait ‘til proper morning but then I got up as the knocking grew louder.
I stumbled, tripping over the boots that I had simply kicked off and made it to the door, hesitating for a moment before deciding to creak it open.
The professor stood out in the hallway and I blinked at what seemed like the harsh light from outside as he gave me a rather disappointed look.
“Professor? What--it’s--what time is it?”
“Three-oh-five,” he said and I sighed, tipping my head to the door.
“Whatever it is can wait ‘til the morning.”
“It can’t.”
“It can,” I insisted. I wasn’t scared of him--I could argue with him if I thought he wasn’t being fair. And he was not being fair.
“I know what you’ve been doing.”
“Sleeping?” I asked, bewildered. He gave me a pitying stare.
“No, Sebastian. The book. The tickets. That…heart. I know what day it is. What day it…was, I suppose now.”
I took pains not to look at him, embarrassed by my actions. It was entirely stupid of me and I didn’t know why I had done it in the first. I’d never done it before, and I don’t know why I had thought it would be wise to start now.
“What on earth possessed you to do that?”
“I don’t know,” I cried, dragging a hand down my face. “It was stupid. Can I sleep now, professor? We can talk about it tomorrow--”
“You might have just started off with this and saved yourself the trouble,” he said, holding out the paper that I’d given him. I looked at him warily.
“You know I lied? ‘Bout findin’ it with him?”
The professor smiled at me, wagging the bit of paper in the air between us before peering at it for reference. “I had assumed so, unless Johnson had entertained notions of ‘pushing me against a wall’ and so forth that I had otherwise not known about. Also, you had a bit of an error at one point but I think I got the gist of your message.”
I was embarrassed all over again for the writing that he had in his hand. Little more than smut. Hell, it was smut, and yet--and yet he seemed amused by it, putting me at ease as he gave me a look.
“Might I come in?” he asked, trying his best and failing at a sort of coyness. He’d never needed permission before and so I didn’t grant it to him this time, instead grabbing him by the collar and dragging him inward, kissing him roughly as he kicked the door shut behind himself.
-----