(no subject)
They got together on most of Elle's nights off now, usually at her apartment. They had tried going out for dinner once, but it had ended up being more awkward than anything else, really. Talking to one another still wasn't their strong point. At least if they were at her apartment, they could give up on the pretenses of dinner and conversation more easily. Which is often what ended up happening. Gabriel doubted that was normal, but then again there was little about their relationship (was it a relationship? they had never labeled it formally as such, but it was beginning to feel like one) that was normal to begin with.
Still, the last week or two had been nice. Almost too nice. He felt restless from it, on nights where he wasn't with her he usually stayed at his apartment, locked up in his solitude, plotting his next move. A few nights ago he had went to a strip club he hadn't been to yet, and another blond, Daphne Milbrook, showed up missing on the news a few days later. The official report was that there was a serial killer in their midst, and most of the clubs were beefing up their security because of it. Not that he minded. He liked a challenge. It helped quell that darkness inside of his head. That darkness that threatened to ruin everything. After all, Elle could never know what he truly was, what he was truly like. She would never accept him. Even though she had promised to never hate him, he wondered if that was really true, if she could even keep a promise like that.
But all of that was pushed into the back of his mind (as much as it ever could be)as he knocked on the door of her apartment, a pizza in his other hand to add to all the other dinners they never ate much of. He was dressed like he normally did outside of work, black jeans and a black button down shirt, complete with his worn leather jacket. His hair was slightly gelled and spiked. The glasses, vest and ties were all at home, tucked away in his closet. They were just a costume, this was who he really was.
Or as close to it as he could ever show her, at any rate.
Still, the last week or two had been nice. Almost too nice. He felt restless from it, on nights where he wasn't with her he usually stayed at his apartment, locked up in his solitude, plotting his next move. A few nights ago he had went to a strip club he hadn't been to yet, and another blond, Daphne Milbrook, showed up missing on the news a few days later. The official report was that there was a serial killer in their midst, and most of the clubs were beefing up their security because of it. Not that he minded. He liked a challenge. It helped quell that darkness inside of his head. That darkness that threatened to ruin everything. After all, Elle could never know what he truly was, what he was truly like. She would never accept him. Even though she had promised to never hate him, he wondered if that was really true, if she could even keep a promise like that.
But all of that was pushed into the back of his mind (as much as it ever could be)as he knocked on the door of her apartment, a pizza in his other hand to add to all the other dinners they never ate much of. He was dressed like he normally did outside of work, black jeans and a black button down shirt, complete with his worn leather jacket. His hair was slightly gelled and spiked. The glasses, vest and ties were all at home, tucked away in his closet. They were just a costume, this was who he really was.
Or as close to it as he could ever show her, at any rate.