Roses And Guns | k.th + p.jm

Preview.

It was dark; the only source of light coming to the cursed wicked room was the light of a table lamp, which was placed on the small desk belong to the officer who was due on watch this night. A pair of sharp get black eyes caught the sight of the officer who sighed frustratingly, running his hand through his parted hair, glancing at the wall clock which was hanging opposite to him on the wall; the soft tick tock ringing through the silence.

He sure wanted to go home, back to his family, to be with his children if he had any. Of course, no one would want to spend a whole night in a police station watching over the cells which caged certain prisoners, even if it was a part of their job. But oh, how wrong he was to assume that he might be going back to his loved ones.

A mischievous smirk appeared on the said man's lips, the same person who had the piercing pair of eyes as he sat on his metal bed, he assumed, and fixed his hair, reminding himself of his habits. One being no matter what time it is, he always has to look good. Always the first impression is important; even if it was for a kill.

Heaving a boosted sigh, he turned to look at the so called beautiful walls of the cell he belonged; the walls he himself decorated for the past two days, taking his sweet time. Of course the boredom was killing him.

Kill.

Revenge.

Death.

Die.

Blood.

Pain.

Oh how much he loved those words. They were craved on the wall with a certain pocket knife which belong to the devil himself. Messy and scary; just the way the devil liked his meal.

Eyeing the walls with his greedy eyes, the said male got up before reaching towards his little friend, his pocket knife to be specific, which he mindlessly kept on the metal bed and placed it on his back pocket. His vision caught another wall clock which happens to be hanging right opposite to the cell he was in and he glared at the arms of the clock as if he was going to murder them.

Why the fuck are they ticking so slow?

Sighing, he made his way to the metal bars which were supposed to prevent him escaping and mockingly smiled at them, his psychic boxy grin on display; no he wasn't a psychopath, he just had a weird liking towards blood and death. Atleast that's how he preferred to introduce himself.

His cold slender fingers wrapped mindlessly on the metal bars and he hissed on the weird smell of the bars he despised; ew. He cleared his throat, warning up before speaking sternly, but his voice sounded venomous

"At what time are you gonna get off, officer?" He dripped fakeness, it was obvious since he wasn't used to being anywhere respectful.

The man who looked like he just entered his sixties looked up from his desk, eyes giving a judgemental glare to the certain cell the voice came from. He huffed in annoyance as he glanced back at the wall clock in front of him.

"It's not your place to know, wimp."

The low chuckle escaped from the man with long fingers and midnight black eyes clearly went unnoticed by the so called officer. "Feisty, aren't we?"

"Shut up unless you want a bullet down your throat." The previous man replied with clear annoyance as the black eyed man threw his hands up in air, close to his chest. "Woah there, calm down." And obviously, the mocking boxy grin was full on display.

Silence.

It remained peaceful for a few seconds before the familiar deep voice echoed again. "Hey, officer. Have you ever said your family that you love them?"

The officer looked taken back at the unusual question, his eyes slightly wider, his feet started tapping the cold floor impatiently as he ignored the feeling of danger. At least he tried to. "What kind of a question is that?"

The black eyed man let out a low but a dark chuckle, whispering. "You'll see,"

"What did you say?"

"Oh," The said man chuckled loudly but obviously being fake this time, which could also be easily mistaken as a hearty chuckle as he replied back.

"It's nothing. I was just curious."

The officer gave a suspicious look but anyway he leaned on his chair, glancing at the clock one more time, wanting for the time to run away fast. The certain black eyed man too glanced at the clock in front of him, but obviously, for a different reason; he didn't have a family to run back as soon as his night shift was over like the officer he had a little chat with.. but he was eager to escape the hell, the place he didn't want to be in and run back to his squad, who are obviously on their way to get him back.

_

Hello, welcome to my book! Thank you for choosing to read this.

First, I would like to warn you about certain themes which will circulate around this book. Unlike my previous books, this won't be a book with fluff and soft scenes. There will be mentions of,

- Blood
- Strong Language
- Crime
- Death
- Violence
- Angst
- Mature Scenes

And there will also be fluff, don't worry.

Also I'm planning with some mpreg, obviously you guys can choose.

Please don't read if you're uncomfortable with any of above mentioned themes.

Also please bear with my grammatical and spelling errors, sometimes I might miss them because English isn't my first language.

I hope to have a nice journey with you guys like I did with my previous books.

So, that's all and let me present you this mafia/gangster themed fanfiction,

Roses and Guns