#OH + bello mio just literally means my beauty but with a funny intent like saying it to a friend (nix is mocking him <3) and uhhhh mars is a

[deadrlngers]

WIP DAY. (or whatever day it is)

i was tagged by @nuclearstorms and @arklay, thank you beloveds MWAH. i’ll share a little crumb of yea, still on the same work of last sunday, because i literally can’t finish this thing, i keep adding words and it’s hell at this point. anyways have fenix being dumb, my fave concept in the world

i’m tagging @morvaris, @swordcoasts @camelliagwerm @wrymbloods @jillvalcntines @reaperkiller @steelport and anyone else that wants to share a wip for anything at all really, art, writing, whatever <33

Fenix hesitated, still leaning over the counter. Mars knew something else was up. “Spit it out.” He pronounced the words like a prolonged sigh, already fed up with the interruption.

“Listen, can you maybe, ya’ know…take your trophy from the trunk and leave me the car?” Automatically he started tapping his fingers rhythmically on the counter: there was no way in hell Mars would agree straight away to the request but trying doesn’t hurt. Most of the times. “Just for a few hours? I’ll take it back here, cross on my heart.” He quickly added and outlined the symbol with his index and middle finger in the same exact spot he mentioned.

“No.” Mars’s reply was as hard and cold as his usual demeanour and struck quickly like a lightning, he didn’t even ponder the matter for a single moment. Luckily – but for himself only – Fenix was a stubborn man.

“C’mon, it’s just like…what?” he tried to reason, “two or three hours? Just enough time for breakfast and so on.” The tapping was closer to a hammering sound now and was gradually chiming louder and louder into the fixer’s skull like a nail striking inside. How he wished to cut a few more fingers off his hand. Trying to ignore both the sound and the man making it, Mars didn’t budge and kept his eyes fixed on his turning magazine’s pages activity, vital if you ask him.

“Okay listen. See the girl outside?” Fenix shifted his body to the side, weight resting on his elbow now, yet the man kept ignoring his every word, he was only glad his ears where spared from the noise. “Give a look man, for fuck’s sake they beat the shit out of me for that contract of yours.” The exaggerated exasperation in his now too noisy tone made the fixer puff out a tired breath as he raised his gaze; suddenly the idea of just agreeing to the request and let the cowboy go fuck himself was turning to be quite an interesting choice. He leaned to the side once again, this time only slightly since Fenix’s frame wasn’t obstructing the view any longer, and shot a glance at Vesper: she was still leaning against the car, phone in hand as she mindlessly tried to kill time by scrolling down on news and flashing commercials.

As if she could feel the pair of eyes staring into her direction, her gaze shot up to the shop, efficiently spotting the two men spying on her. “Yeah right, that one.” Fenix comically lifted his hand and waved, enough to make Vesper focus on the screen again with a groan. “Listen,” he began as he leaned over the counter again “I got a date with the girl and don’t let me get started on how fucking hard it was to make her agree to have one, I swear.” That wasn’t a lie, for once. Not only it took twelve failed tries – yes, he kept counting – for Vesper to finally accept the invitation but she still didn’t dump him and thirty minutes already passed. They literally just stopped to drop a corpse on their date, that had to be a deal breaker. “What kind of cheap fuck takes someone on a date with no car? This is my chance, I fail now I get no second tries. Help a man out.” He moved his wrist in short, fast circles now, his fingers following the circular motion in a gesture that Mars didn’t quite understand the meaning of.

He looked straight at Fenix now: his sardonic smile and usual confidence couldn’t hide the almost pathetic pleading. That was one of the most entertaining shows he ever offered to him. “The real favour here would be freeing her from you, actually.” Fair point, Fenix noted, that forked venomous tongue of his never disappoints.

“Yeah well, I asked you to make me a favour. You’ve been young too…” he stopped to scan the old man’s wrinkled face with a frown and then resumed his earnest speech “…one hundred years ago I guess. Y’know how it is.”

Ignoring the jab at his age, the fixer lowered his gaze on his magazine once again and for the last time; the silence following almost felt like a refusal and Fenix was ready to go back and talk his ears off. Thankfully it wasn’t needed. “Fine.” Mars finally yielded, probably only to make the annoying voice of such an insufferable man stop torturing him. “I’ll get the body. You take the car back when you’re done.”

Fenix smirked widely. “Thank you, bello mio.” He teased while slapping the palm of his hand on the counter a few times, Mars already opted for blissful indifference and really hoped – nearly prayed – that now he could finally find some peace again.

You sly bastard, Fenix thought, mentally patting his own back for a job well done. Turning to the exit, he left the fixer’s uncommon den and went straight back to the car, an unusual jauntiness in his steps. Back to his cool front, now. Can’t let the girl know he’s too overjoyed, that would ruin his image.