Starlight and Shadows

Chapter 9: Roman Makes a Friend

Stepping out of his car Roman Torchwick was ecstatic. Thrilled even.

Giddy might be too strong.

A light thunderstorm had rolled in, with the rain having become a drizzle. Occasional cracks of thunder would illuminate the night sky.

Looking up at the dilapidated warehouse, the windows shattered with boards placed over them, Roman decided to not get annoyed at the fact that he could see lights inside. Not tonight, at least.

'Decorum Roman,' he thought, suppressing his grin into a more dignified smirk as he walked up to one of his underlings. Their red sunglasses glinting under the light of a nearby streetlight.

"Where is she," Roman asked. Hell, he wanted to sing the question, but that would be excessive.

The underling, Roman had no idea what his name was, shuffled under his gaze. "She's... uh... inside," he said looking down.

"Exceptional! Very well, let us go talk to the brat," Roman said, lifting his cane to point the way. Roman allowed himself a little grin. Just for a few seconds.

Stepping inside, underling in tow, Roman said over his shoulder, "So, where did you guys put her?"

"Uh... she... uh—"

"Spit it out. I do have other things I need to do," Roman said, rolling his eyes at the stuttering idiot.

"She's in the dining area..."

Roman changed directions, walking down one of the empty aisle, his face scrunching up in confusion. "Why the hell did you idiots put her in the kitchen?" 'Seriously, could've put her anywhere else.'

"Uh... well you see sir... we..."

"Shut up. It doesn't matter."

Roman led the way through the barren warehouse, the sound of rain hitting the metal roof filling the silence between them. He noted a strong draft in the building, another sign of the neglected state of the building. Some of the overhead lights worked without problem, but others flickered. Most didn't even turn on.

Standing at the double doors to the dining area Roman straightened his white jacket. He then adjusted his bowler hat. Taking one final deep breath he put on his best smug smirk and threw open the double doors.

The blue haired freak with the armor was eating from a pint of ice cream.

His ice cream.

A loud crack of thunder shook the building.

Roman's right eye twitched.

She stared back at him, spoon in her mouth, expression blank.

A million different thoughts raced through Roman's mind. Among them, however, one stood out.

Rushing forwards Roman snatched the pint of ice cream out of the filthy thief's hands. "How dare you touch my rocky road!"

The girl stared back at him with the same blank expression, spoon still in her mouth.

'Wasn't her armor black?'

"Sir..."

Reeling around, ice cream secured in his hands, Roman glared at the buffoon. "You have one chance to explain."

'Damnit, her spit was on that spoon,' he internally lamented, looking down at the half-eaten pint. He had been looking forward to that ice cream all day.

"We... uh... we didn't force her to come here," the man said, stumbling over his own words.

"Then how did you get her here, and why was she eating my ice cream!"