Thief With A Bike ~ Krii7y

~~~ { 46 } ~~~

Smit's and John's adventure to the center lift was, for lack of better words, boring as fuck.

They spent the most time meaninglessly conversing , other than snowboarding, mainly because the fucking line was longer than the one before.

John had assumed himself rather okay at snowboarding, meaning he had broke his record of staying upright by two minutes.

Didn't seem like much, but less is more.

At least he was trying.

"Yo, you think Grizzy and Puffer are still good? We've been out for an hour and we aren't even there yet." Smit noted from beside him, unhappy, but still excited.

"They need to be on their own." John groaned, the thought of having to take two others to Vegas with him an Smit resurfacing.

He didn't know why he was so stuck on this, it seemed childish, and they'd probably have fun but he wanted to be alone with Smit for once.

It would probably be different this time around though, they wouldn't be living together practically, and he and Smit could do stuff without the other two. Everything was within walking distance there, Swag and Matt would be fine on their own.

At least he hoped so, he hoped they weren't the same as the two they'd unfortunately taken with them.

What a dumb mistake.

"Yeah, but I don't trust them for shit." Smit replied, albeit slowly.

"Trust them with what?"

"Each other's lives."

"Don't worry about it Smit, if they're dead when we come back, well boohoo. They're adults, dumb ones, but adults." John rolled his eyes, sighing as he spoke.

"Yeah, I guess, I just feel responsible for everyone."

"You aren't, it's their own risk they're taking."

"Yeah.." Smit shifted slightly, his board now hanging loosely from the chair. Smit himself didn't seem to care much about it but John shuddered closer to Smit. Oh he wished he wasn't such a pussy right now.

What a stupid fucking fear to have.

"Next we have to take a run to the... left, and then down to the freestyle runs, then I guess I can teach you the tow rope. Actually, it might be a t-bar, I don't know yet."

"Oh how fun." John joked.

"You'll be fine, might take a couple of tries, but I won't give up on you."

"How sweet of you."

"I know."

With that there was silence for the rest of the trip up the mountain, but that only filled John with more unease. He had a feeling one would only describe as true panic, not from the fear of heights, but a very sudden flash of fight or flight responses, not that his body chose anything but freeze. He felt like he was being watched.

Years of experience robbing and being an absolute menace to most rich people gave him the ability to sense when someone was watching, and to pinpoint it rather well, but he had no leads on it. It was a deep, primal sensation, and he'd only felt it once. That day he was framed for murder, the day he saw him, the day his life was thrown upside-down.

Smit however seemed okay, great even, he hadn't even noticed at all. Was it just John or? Smit of all people should sense the unease. Something was wrong here.

Once they'd arrived at the top, Smit gleefully lead John to the left path, the uneasiness soon gone, lost to time. Whether it was Smit himself who'd calmed John's nerves, or just the feeling actually truly leaving was up to debate.