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One month after his seemingly great idea to bring the city back to its former glory.
One month was all it took.....
....for everything to backfire...
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When the alarm on his phone beeped at him, Alek clutched it in his hand and bounded off of the balcony's railing back into his room, beginning his rapid fire morning routine. Having already showered and laid out clothes for the day, it would take a matter of minutes for him to finish getting ready. The same amount of time it would take to make a phone call. It took a single button press on his speed dial for the device to start ringing Yva's number. Setting the phone down and putting it on speaker, he already had most of his outfit pulled on and buttoned up by the time it had even rang twice.
"C'mon, c'mon. Pick up, pick up, pick up. I'm going nuts over here." He muttered impatiently as he shrugged on a vest then a jacket over that. A third ring sounded as Alek stepped into his shoes, quickly tied them and still had time to pick up the device and put it to his ear before the next ring finished. "Jeez Yva, what are you doing, playing with yourself?" He spoke to himself almost amused as he snatched the keys to their bike off of his nightstand and began his descent down the stairs on the assumption that she'd pick up before it went to voicemail.
"Hello?" answered the sleepy tone on the other line, half irritated, half groggy.
"Morning, sleeping beauty." Alek chimed, smirking at the thought of Yva's face at the very moment. "It's time to wake up and get your sexy ass all dressed up, nice and pretty like." Giving her a moment to process his words in her half asleep state, the white haired Pollock continued his strides through his home until he reached the garage. A grin crossed his features as he stopped to gaze upon the row of cars, their bike sitting at the end of the row patiently awaiting it's rider.
"Where are you? Your place, or --"
"Seriously? It's way too early..." Yva breathed into the phone, with a muffled sound which could be distinguished by her head hitting the pillow. There was a man's voice in the background, to which Yva replied, "Meg, it's Meg, she wants me to go to Yoga with her," the woman lied through her teeth, then muttered into the phone, "Hold on." More rustle against the sheets and then sounds of bare feet hitting tiled floor, after a gentle door slam, Yva continued, "I'm not home right now." Alek instantly quirked an eyebrow, stifling a breathy chuckle as he twirled the keys around his index finger.
"Meg, huh?" He mused, taking strides towards the bike, straddling it, and slipping the keys into the ignition letting the machine idle. "What if Meg promises to take you shopping? Does that make up for the disgruntled baby you have to deal with later?" With a motorcycle helmet tucked under his arm, Alek ran his tongue over his lips and sighed. "C'mon Yva. I'm going nuts. The bikes already running. It'll be fuunnn. Just give me a time and a place, yeah?"
There was a drawn out sigh on the other line, then Yva proceeded, "Alright, fine. My place, in one hour I guess." Rolling his eyes, Alek prepared to put the helmet on.
"You gotta sound more enthused than that. Yoga's going to be a blast."
Yva laughed, creaking the bathroom door open a little bit, "Oh my gawd, Meghan, you are sooo totally right, Yoga is fun," she squealed into the phone.
"That's more like it." He grinned, leaning forward and gripping the throttle, one hand still holding the phone. "Alright, hot stuff. See you in an hour. Maybe we can grab breakfast." With that Alek made sure to rev the engine enough so she could hear it before hanging up and leaving Yva to her own devices. Hell..now he had another hour to kill.
Approximately an hour later.
Alek pulled up in front of his partner in crime's place, killing the bikes engine, pulling off his helmet, and trotting over to the door. Ringing the doorbell, he'd raise his voice an octave, wait a few moments to give her time to get to the door before calling out rather loudly. "Honnneyyy, I'm hooommmee." The blonde whipped the door open just as he was calling out, grabbed the front of his shirt and tugged him in.
"What the hell is your problem, I got neighbors, asshole!" Caught in the middle of his greeting, his announcement of being hoooommmmee - got cut short as he stumbled forward a step into the seemingly angry arms of his partner. With a playful smirk and a mischievous twinkle in his eye, Alek would inhale deeply as if preparing to shout louder, only to lean in and breath quietly into Yva's ear. "Honey..I'm hoomme." The woman gasped playfully.
"You're so premature," Yva breathed.
Alek snorted in amusement. "Premature? Sweetheart, nothing about me's premature. At least not since puberty. I'm a big boy now."
Yva stepped back, extended her left hand, "If you like it then you should have put a ring on it," she sang, swung around to head back to her bedroom while she called over her shoulder, "Then you can say 'honey I'm home' all you want." Pausing to admire the view as she pranced away, a wide grin brandished the explosive villains features.
"What are we waiting for then, I said I'd take you shopping didn't I? What are you thinking? Tiffanies? Swarovski? Whatever you want, babe." He winked, finally starting after her. As Alek followed her into her bedroom, it'd be the simplicity that would probably shock him. It didn't hold an entirely feminine air, more so modern and white, everything white. As Yva braided her hair in front of the mirror, she turned to glance at him.
"Actually, I was wondering if we could get straight to it, I'm feeling kind of fun today," she grinned, and once finished with her hair, she let the braid fall loosely over her right shoulder. Now she trully felt ready, pushing past him as she strode into the living room, grabbed her purse and headed for the door. She was wearing a thin-strap tanktop and skinny jeans with leather high-heeled boots, her hair braided because she knew what the bike did to her beautiful hair.
"Well it's about time. You were damn cranky an hour ago." Alek teased as he followed after her yet again before handing her a helmet when they finally reached the bike. Tossing a leg over the motocycle, he slipped his own head gear on and turned to glance smoothly over his shoulder. "Where to, Miss?" He asked in a purposefully fancy voice which was meant to portray or perhaps mock some sort of chaffeur toting around a celebrity.
"Let's head to town," she offered, meaning the middle of the city, where they could certainly cause some mishap. With that, she pushed the helmet over her head with careful care not to pull and tug on her hair, adjusted the strap and wrapped her slender arms around his waist.The moment her hands locked, all it took was a flick of the wrist to send them speeding off towards a great day of mayhem and chaos.
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