Thomas Sanders Sides OneShots 4

Hidden identity - Roman x Virgil & Patton x Logan

10:59pm

I barely have an outlined idea for this OneShot but here we go

Trigger warning: death, mentions of dead bodies, murder

AU
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Cato stepped off of his plane, pushing his tie up further to tighten it around his neck. He truly hated flying but it was the quickest and easiest way to get over large distances of land. So, without any further complaining he nudged his glasses up his sharp bridged nose and entered the airport.

He scowled at a few people who brushed past him, annoyed they couldn't stay in their own space. He already hated the human race with a deep burning passion that started through his teenagers years, and even so to this day his animosity towards them grew and grew. Everyone who knew him - surprisingly quite a lot - knew to stay away from him when they're unneeded, and know to never question or argue with what he does.

He was a control freak, and wanted everything to stay in a certain order. The employees that help run his company always strive to be the best around Cato, because with one slip up, they're fired.

As soon as his midnight black eyes spotted his suitcase, he grabbed it from the conveyer belt without letting anyone start conversation with him, wheeling it behind him as he strode with a dominant aura surrounding him. People moved out of his way, as he definitely wasn't moving out of there's - he was sure to barge into a few shoulders of others who didn't care for how much authority Cato seemed to have - which either ended with cursed profanities or sharp glares.

Cato ignored it, though, no one has ever been able to make him snap, and that wasn't going to change, just because they wouldn't move out of his way.

Finding a black car parked on the curb, the driver tucked his belongings into the trunk as Cato sat himself down in the passenger seat, never one for sitting in the back. He found it demeaning.

"Where are you heading, sir?" The driver spoke, pulling out from the curb and onto the averagely busy street. Cato didn't respond right away, lips curling into a frown. The driver should know where they were going, he told his assistant to inform him. Nevertheless, he shouldn't let his anger out on him as it wasn't his fault - so, he replied;

"My home - I trust you know of it's location?" Cato replied, for the sake of his life, the driver better know where that is, or Cato would have to write his name down onto the list of people he was planning to murder during the span of this week. That is, if everything was to go to plan.

The driver agreed that he did, and the two stayed silent for the entire two hours it took to get to his destination. Cato hated listening to music - especially from the radio - his preference was silence or the voice of someone he held dear to his heart. Thinking of said man made Cato straightening up in his seat just a little, tilting his head towards the window so the driver wouldn't see the faint smile.

How he despised emotions, it made people weak, and he wasn't weak.

The vehicle came to a stop, and the two men climbed out of the car. Cato closed the door with one hand while the other combed his hair back to it's near position, taking his suitcase from the driver who paced it beside his leg. "I shall be off, then" the driver announced, nodding his head at Cato who ignored him entirely, grabbing the handle and walking up the marble path towards his grand mansion.