I only own this fanfiction. Disclaimed provided.
Rock...
What the hell is this?
After one of the shittiest days in Roanapurr he's ever experienced, and that was saying something; ever since he was taken to this place, he couldn't recall not having a shitty day, he finally made it back to his cheap hotel room. The place was small, cramped but at least it was clean with its own bathroom and a mini-fridge to keep his liquor cold. That's all he's craved after he started working at the Lagoon Company as a 'Delivery Boy'; hard liquor in any form and cigarettes.
"Another day, another gunfight."
He had long accepted his lot, determined to follow this demon road as it leads to the gates of hell. There was no stopping it-then why the hell am I complaining?
Rock ran his hand over his tired face then felt in his pocket for the key to his room. Turning the key once and again, he waited a few seconds before turning it a third time, a little extra insurance against the thriving thieves around the area. Opening the door then locking it, Rock headed straight to his bathroom. The water in the shower was fickle. At times, he would have warm water, at times freezing cold and then scalding hot. As he stripped, pissed then stepped into the shower stall and turn on the water, scalding hot water blasted him but instead of recoiling like he usually did, Rock welcomed the burning assault against his chest, letting his body adjust-reddening his skin. Rock looked down the length of his body, he worked out, had to with the demand of his job- never know when you'll need to run for your life and all that! His chest and stomach were sculpted and there was some muscle definition in his arms. Did he need to be buffed up? No.
"Then why am I thinking about this? Why am I having a pity party for myself? That can't be good."
When he was all but cooked, Rock turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. The steam had fogged up the bathroom mirror, effectively hiding his reflection.
Good. He thought.
He didn't need to see himself right now anyway. Maybe he should just have a pity party for himself. Grabbing a folded towel off the counter, he wrapped it around his waist then walked back into his bedroom. Revy had gotten this place for him. At that thought, his lips curled up a little then it faltered. The last time they were on better terms was before that Maid showed up again, three months ago. Deliveries ran as they should but the extra tension is something he didn't need. Ignoring it was not working. Revy and 'ignore' can never be in the same sentence successfully. He groans out loud, the familiar frustration pooling in his gut making him itch for a drink. Still, in his towel, Rock bent over to open his mini-fridge to take a beer can out then froze at the sound of a click behind him.
Revy...
"You're so fucking dead," Revy said as she cocks the hammer of her gun and then pulls the trigger listening to the loud click rang out in the nearly empty room. She was sitting in a chair in the darkest corner of the room listening to Rock in the bathroom, questions bubbling in her head. Why the hell did I follow him home? Am I a mutt or something? Who takes a shower so long? In here is so clean, it's pissing me off since my room looks like a dump, when does he get to do all of this?
"Killed by my own gun no less," Rock replied dryly and her heart did something funny in her chest. Damn him. She used to believe that she was his gun and him, her bullet. Now...I don't know what to think.
Slowly, Rock turned to face her, his chest red from his hot shower, water traced down taut skin, flat nipples, cut abs and... She raised a brow when she spied a hinted outline of his-
"What do I owe this visit, Ms. Rebeeca Lee?" Rock asked taking a gulp from his beer can. The room smelled like cigarette smoke and soap and Rock. The place smelled like him.
"What did you just call me?" Revy tone was low, a warning that the shit was getting closer to the fan.
"It's your name, isn't it?"
Was he retarded or just blatantly trying to pick a fight with her. She was Revy. Rebecca Lee died a long time ago, she couldn't survive in this world of shit, so Revy put a bullet through her brain then took her corpse.
"Don't call me that." She said standing up from her chair and taking a step towards him, violence pulsating from her.
"Or what? You're going to kill me or just beat me up again?"
"I'm thinking about it." She answered cryptically.
Rock put his beer down on the top of the fridge, one hand on his hip, the other scrubbed over his face. "What the hell is this?" He let his hand drop with a soft "clap" on the top of his thigh.
"what is what?"
"This! Are you here to intimidate me or threaten me, belittle me? What? All day at work isn't enough for you?!"
"You're getting pissed and I'm the one who's wronged here?" Revy all but screamed at him.
"Because I tried to relate to you? Back on the boat during that Maid incident, I was trying to be someone required for the situation. You're the one always berating my softness, my ideology and now...you avoid me, hurt me physically at every turn and here, in my...place, you're."
He threw his hands up in a fit of frustration, the motion loosen the towel around his waist causing it to fall to his feet.