He does mind, but he just scowls about it rather than objecting. It's probably better they stay close anyway, in case anybody does come before they get out of here.
He gives one last look at his phone, toys with listening to the voicemail before deciding he's only going to torture himself if he does, and drops it onto the driver seat as Kevin gets out. Maybe if he leaves it in view somebody will break in, steal it and take Yifu on a wild goose chase for a while. Maybe.
He leads Kevin to the elevator, up to the top floor - the penthouse suite. Digs a lock pick from one of his braids and unlocks the door. He doesn't say anything about it, the set of his shoulders almost daring Kevin to pass comment.
It doesn't take him long once they're inside, grabbing a backpack and moving from room to room, shoving stuff in it. The place is big, beautifully decorated but vaguely impersonal, like a show home, a place he doesn't spend a lot of time in. The bedroom looks more lived in, the bed unmade and clothes piled on the dresser, waiting to be put away. He grabs some, tshirts and underwear, just the basics, shoves them in the bag alongside his documents. It's all practicalities, very little sentiment.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2023-10-15 05:34 pm (UTC)He does mind, but he just scowls about it rather than objecting. It's probably better they stay close anyway, in case anybody does come before they get out of here.
He gives one last look at his phone, toys with listening to the voicemail before deciding he's only going to torture himself if he does, and drops it onto the driver seat as Kevin gets out. Maybe if he leaves it in view somebody will break in, steal it and take Yifu on a wild goose chase for a while. Maybe.
He leads Kevin to the elevator, up to the top floor - the penthouse suite. Digs a lock pick from one of his braids and unlocks the door. He doesn't say anything about it, the set of his shoulders almost daring Kevin to pass comment.
It doesn't take him long once they're inside, grabbing a backpack and moving from room to room, shoving stuff in it. The place is big, beautifully decorated but vaguely impersonal, like a show home, a place he doesn't spend a lot of time in. The bedroom looks more lived in, the bed unmade and clothes piled on the dresser, waiting to be put away. He grabs some, tshirts and underwear, just the basics, shoves them in the bag alongside his documents. It's all practicalities, very little sentiment.