King of Hearts (House of Cards Series 2) [Student/teacher]

King of Hearts (Student/teacher)

A/N: Hello all! This is another story in my student/teacher series, House of Cards. Those of you that have read the first one, Queen of Spades, will recognize these characters, so enjoy another round of loving. For those of you just catching the ship, you can read this story solo, but I do recommend checking out QoS too, so you get the full background.

Also, this is told from the student's POV, and it's my first attempt at writing predominantly male so I hope it is enjoyable and realistic. Dig in.

And pic on the side is West in all his.... West-ness :P

OH and when I write in Spanish, I will give a translation of it in english in (brakets like these) afterwards.

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The handcuffs dug in painfully around his wrists, but West had experienced the braclet's bite before. He shifted positions, trying to find some angle that would give the ache in his back a relief and give his arms more circulation. This was complete and utter bulls*** anyways, they were arresting him as procedure, not because he had done anything wrong. This time. Though West had to admit that being the usual suspect whenever there was gang related incidents in the neighborhood was getting old fast. He wasn't even in a gang here! Los Santos had been his life and family in Cuba, there was no way he'd betray them by joining up here like some eager kid.

The police officer climbed into the front of the squad car and started driving towards the station. "You might want to take Northside dr in instead of Pinegrove, there's less construction detours." West informed the officer with a bored voice. If they were going to have otgo there anyways, at least they'd get there faster his way!

"Jesus kid, is this seriously your wrap sheet?" the cop exclaimed from the front seat, ignoring West's advice, instead typing his name into the database. West groaned, knowing hte inevitable was about to hit. "Westley Vincent James Jr. Says here that two years back you immigrated from Cuba to live with your father, Westley Vincent James Sr. And in those two years you have picked up a series of vandalisim and petty crime charges, no convictions. Nothing too violent here, though there's a note saying that you have been reported to be involved in several of the brawls we've been called in to report." the officer listed off.

West looked out the window, wondering when the dumb cop was going to take his a** to lockup so he could get bailed out already. They'd picked him up during his nighttime run, saying that a suspicious male matching his description had been seen in the area shortly after a liquor store got robbed. West snorted, knowing that they had only picked him up because he was Hispanic looking and in a nice neighborhood, obviously they were suspicious. Freaking racial profiling.

"Can we just take Northside dr and get going already? I have class in the morning and I don't want ot be out all night." West called out, making hte officer turn to face him.

"You might want to watch your attitude." the cop said threateningly. But West had faced down gang members armed with machine guns, a fat little piggie like this wasn't even getting an eyebrow raise out of him.

"Please Officer Badass, can you take me to lock up now? Pretty please with a cherry on top?" West fluttered his eyelashed sarcastically. "Maldito bastardo policía." he muttered under his breath. (F***ing cop b******).

The cop spat out some insults that West didn't even dignify with a response, and finally started to drive towards the cop shop. Of course the idiot didn't take West's advice and follow Northside, so they had to weave around the construction detours up Pinecrest for an extra ten minutes. Like everytime before, West was fingerprinted to determine if he really was whom his id claimed him to be, then he was left in the holding tank until his bail was posted. At least they removed the handcuffs first.