(Untitled)

[wickedmen]

[ Wick sits on a swing in the middle of a quiet park, a cigarette balanced delicately between his fingers. It'd belonged to a fifteen-year-old who'd been sitting on this swing before him, but that fifteen-year-old was long since gone; he'd run home crying, clasping a bruised, swollen wrist to his chest as Wick watched him go

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[orderlies]

[ It really hasn't been that great a day

[wickedmen]

[ People on buses tend to be pretty typical. They always have that same drawn, apathetic look, like they can't goddamn wait to reach their houses and flop down on the couch in front of the television for a few hours. Wick is used to it by now; that's how most people are in this part of town, and maybe that's why he doesn't visit too often

[orderlies]

[ His mind's on something else by the time the man stands up, smoothing himself down, but it breaks his line of thought easily enough. James's eyes flick over to him again, and it's not really intentional, exactly; he's just a movement to follow, something his eyes are automatically drawn to.

Definitely too old to be there. What is he, twenty-five? Playing on the swing by himself? Really?

He's probably a retard, James thinks, and he's had enough of those today. When he sees that he's not paying him any mind, that he's just making to leave, he shrugs his bag higher and keeps walking on past him. Well, it is getting pretty late, and even special cases have somewhere to be.

... Maybe Chinese for dinner. There's a place nestled somewhere in the two blocks it takes to reach his house, and it'd save him cooking. Not that filling, though, and he's pretty famished after burning off all that energy. ]

[wickedmen]

[ Well, jeez. He wasn't so much playing on it as he was just sitting there. How judgmental.

It's a good thing Wick can't read minds. He stuffs his hands into his pockets as the man moves past him, finally looking up the second he's out of his line of sight, his eyes sharp as he turns to watch him go. And Wick's been getting into a lot of trouble lately, always pissing the wrong sorts of people off, but it's not like he can help it.

And, besides, it's not his fault if some people are ridiculously oversensitive. But he probably shouldn't follow this man. He probably shouldn't do anything except turn his ass around and go back home. It's just --

Well. No one ever got anywhere by turning around and going home.

So he does what he shouldn't do, and he follows him once he's almost out of sight, being careful to not to be spotted, sticking close but not too close, just close enough that he can trail behind him without being noticed. ]