i'm a fucking wild card {c}

He had stumbled in just before sunrise - the blinds in his room were perpetually shut against any light, he didn't notice the day had begun for everyone where his had ended. He was fast asleep, in his boxers, sheets tangled in his legs, and he didn't notice the slight weight on the edge of the bed.

With a irritable groan at the first jab and a louder one in protest at the second, he would have squirmed away to the other side of the bed and gone on sleeping if not for the bright voice cutting through the blissful silence of his bedroom.

"Wh--" Groggily, he opened his eyes and craned his neck to see the little power puff girl perched on the edge of his bed. "Th'fuck?" His head slumped back to the pillow, and he wondered if this was some residual high. The other explanation as to what she was doing was a much less appealing one - she looked twelve for fuck's sake.

@cora

Iggie hoped that if he closed his eyes and ignored it, it would go away. That he could roll over and sleep it off like a bad hangover. Her voice was shrill and grating against his pounding headache, and he snatched the extra pillow from the other side of the bed to muffle the sound of it as he rolled over.

It was too fucking early for this bullshit.

@cora

Iggie grunted when the pillow was torn from his grip. "For fuck's sake." He snarled, shoving himself up to sit and rubbing at the back of his head, the hang over's headache pounding at his skull in double time.

He was getting a little fucking sick of getting beat up on like he was some communal punching bag. A guy couldn't even get some sleep around here. He glowered at the petulant little bitch - how had she even gotten into his room? "What. Do you. Want. You cruddy. Little. Imp."

@cora

He furrows his brow, just watching her in disbelief and shifting himself to the other side of the bed, away from her and her fucking frilled up umbrella.

He sighs irritably. He shouldn't be cussing in front of children, but considering she's broken into his fucking house and woken him up by beating him with a parasol, he thinks he can let manners slide. But Iggie always thinks he can let manners slide.

Though he's well used to being beat up for money he owes, it's usually burly men, not teenage girls who do the beating. "Right..." He groans, face scrunched up in thought, rubbing at the back of his head. "Well, I'm actually waiting on some payments to go through, myself. I can't pay back money I haven't gotten yet, see. It's not my fault that some things are delayed like, further down the line." He flashes her a terse grin.

@cora

Sighing, he leaned against the headboard, tilting his head back and shutting his eyes. He could almost convince himself this was just a dream, but his aching head told him otherwise.

"Look, like I said," Iggie yawned, glancing warily at Cora. "I'm gonna pay you back, scout's honour; just gimme like, another week." Truthfully being threatened was getting to be commonplace, more than he cared to admit. That was how he could be so nonchalant about this. If this little brat didn't end up killing him, someone else would get to it.

But Iggie was too young and good looking to die. He should have said something clever and charming now, but anything of the sort escaped him this early. "Can you pass my pants?" He added, nodding towards the crumpled jeans on the ground, the bent box of cigarettes that was in the pocket.

@cora

He rolled his eyes - no answer, so he just groaned and leaned over on the bed, snatching his jeans from the foot of the bed and digging into the pockets. He couldn't deal with this, not before he'd had his first cigarette. He glared at Cora while he pulled a cigarette from the pack and lit it, tossing his jeans onto the ground and the cigarettes and lighter onto the night table. He inhaled deeply, took a few drags to soothe himself before he even tried to say anything else.

He could taste last night's drinks still on his tongue, bitter and stale. "See, funny, I'm actually waiting on a death." Iggie said. "I got a relative - he dies, I'm his heir. So if you're gonna be killing anyone, best not be me." He shrugged, sounding nonchalant, as if he didn't care either way. He did.

@cora

He didn't pay her reaction any mind - black lungs, yellow teeth, bad breath, poison in the air, Iggie had heard it all before. Besides, she didn't get come around here threatening to kill him and then fucking turn around to complain about second-hand smoke.

Iggie was still half convinced that this was a dream, negotiating assassination with some twelve year old girl in a princess halloween costume. "Let's say I am." He wasn't a murderer, but the guy was on his last legs already - it was a miracle he was still alive, Iggie had visited him in the hospital a few times. It wouldn't even be an assassination as much as a little shove forward, he reasoned.

@cora