Hayato nodded, he figured Ryuutaro would know better than he would. The teen took another sip of his drink mulling the decision over a little more, not really paying attention as the door to the little joint opened. The thing that shakes Gokudera from his thoughts is the sudden silence that overtook the the joint. The teen looked up at the entrance and his eyes widen... of all the worst possible outcomes...
There didn't seem to be anything particularly odd about the group now standing in the doorway... at least considering where they were. Five men all well dressed in suits. The one in the middle of the group whispers to the man to his right who quickly and quietly orders two of the other men to secure a table. It was clear that this was someone very important, and very much in charge.
...and shares the same dull-green eyes, that seem to be set in a permanent state of displeasure.
Hayato quickly reached into his pocket, shoved a wad of cash on the table and leaned over to Ryuutaro so whisper in his ear.
"We gotta go. Don't say anything, and keep your head down."
Hayato was clearly put on edge by this new arrival. He did not like having to just blatantly give Ryuutaro an order, but right now it was necessary. He slipped his arm around Ryuutaro to get him to move swiftly enough so that they could blend into the rest of the crowd leaving. They're almost out, but they have to squeeze by the man in charge... unfortunately the man seems to notice them and turns to give a cold, stern glare at Hayato.
"E qui ho pensato che siete stati morti negli ultimi sette anni." ((And here I thought you've been dead these past seven years.))
Dammit. The teen growled, and looked up at the man. The resemblance is mostly difficult to see. Hayato had taken after his mother, blessed with her softer features. The only noticeable resemblance was the scowl, the way their eyebrows knit together so tightly over the half-mast dull green eyes. Hayato knew he would have to respond, but refused to address the man in Italian. He hated him so much... he was going to make this as hard for him as possible.
no subject
There didn't seem to be anything particularly odd about the group now standing in the doorway... at least considering where they were. Five men all well dressed in suits. The one in the middle of the group whispers to the man to his right who quickly and quietly orders two of the other men to secure a table. It was clear that this was someone very important, and very much in charge.
...and shares the same dull-green eyes, that seem to be set in a permanent state of displeasure.
Hayato quickly reached into his pocket, shoved a wad of cash on the table and leaned over to Ryuutaro so whisper in his ear.
"We gotta go. Don't say anything, and keep your head down."
Hayato was clearly put on edge by this new arrival. He did not like having to just blatantly give Ryuutaro an order, but right now it was necessary. He slipped his arm around Ryuutaro to get him to move swiftly enough so that they could blend into the rest of the crowd leaving. They're almost out, but they have to squeeze by the man in charge... unfortunately the man seems to notice them and turns to give a cold, stern glare at Hayato.
"E qui ho pensato che siete stati morti negli ultimi sette anni." ((And here I thought you've been dead these past seven years.))
Dammit. The teen growled, and looked up at the man. The resemblance is mostly difficult to see. Hayato had taken after his mother, blessed with her softer features. The only noticeable resemblance was the scowl, the way their eyebrows knit together so tightly over the half-mast dull green eyes. Hayato knew he would have to respond, but refused to address the man in Italian. He hated him so much... he was going to make this as hard for him as possible.
"Bullshit, you only wish I was dead."