The police siren had been long gone when Rowan closed the door behind him. The hotel suite was bright and calming to the exhausted, but Rowan still felt strange at the absence of the other man. He only stared at the shoe stand as if hoping to find Duke's outside shoes to be there again. Nah, those were just the hotel slippers that they would change into.
Rowan sighed and took off his shoes. He switched to the hotel slippers and made sure that dirt and mud wouldn't get on the floor for no reason.
He was so used to this because Duke would rather have their floor kept clean. It was to stop Rowan from cleaning it a lot, but the notion of keeping it clean made Rowan more concerned about keeping it sparkling. Then again, enforcing a cleaning schedule managed the poor guy's tendencies. If someone asked, Rowan would laugh at his embarrassing self three years ago.
Since it was impossible for him to sleep right after his stunt, Rowan just ended up rummaging through everything they bought that day. He found his candies and opened a pack of his strawberry drops. The man found a seat at the suit lounge and sat cross-legged on the couch. Even though the TV was not turned on for white noise, he simply sat there and replayed everything that happened in his mind.
"…is it really that strange for me to draw humans? Should I release my other paintings? Would it be that shocking to those who had been excited about my niche style?" Rowan mumbled into the candy, but he just chewed on it while thinking.
After all, all his portrait drawings were either Duke or Scott. The faces of his positive and negative emotions were always based on them. [The King's Thousand Faces] was even a collection of Duke's multiple emotions. Rowan once tried to paint Connie, but what showed up was a slender monster, which scared Trigger enough for him to scream at it.
A smile bloomed in his mouth. Nah, he would just take it slowly. Red Riding Hood was known to draw the macabre and the feared places to be. He shouldn't be hasty in transitioning into dangers and terrors with human faces. It proved to be too scary even for his patrons.
Knock-knock. Sharp knocks came on the door, and Rowan wondered if it was Duke. Then again, the other person had keys to their hotel suite. He didn't need to ask Rowan to open the door for him. If that was the hotel personnel, they would have said something after their three knocks.
"That was fifth set…" Rowan was happily eating, but his mood slowly grew spoiled by the knocking on the door. There was no voice, but someone was trying to get inside. Those sharp knocks even sounded like he had heard them before.
"Fine, all right, all right…" The painter sighed as he finished the whole pack of strawberry drops. He folded the packaging and disposed of it first before washing his fingers. Since the knocks still continued as he reached the door, he stood there for a few more seconds.
Rowan stared at the shadow cast by the other person, slipping from the gap under the door. However, he noticed how the knocks had stopped shortly after he stood there. The door didn't have a peephole, and even if it did, Rowan didn't know if he wanted to look through it. He just took a deep breath and reach out his hand to twist the knob.
It's just that, by then, the other person walked away for a bit. There was a faint tune from the other side of the door. That very noise made Rowan swing the door open as if he failed to think that action through. When the panel revealed the second person, Rowan froze at his discovery.
Their gazes met promptly as if the other person was keeping an eye on the door, despite the call on his phone. His thumb moved to decline the call and pocketed the phone. The man turned to face Rowan and walked closer. He whispered, "How long were you planning on standing in front of the door? I already heard you approach to answer it."
"…how did you find this room, Scott?" Rowan frowned at the person, but Scott's motion of barging in made him retreat deeper into the room. He should have just slammed the door, but the thought crossed his mind too late. He might have to shove Scott if he wanted to keep the other person away.
"That's easy. Have you been living in poverty long enough to forget what I can do?" Scott raised a brow and looked around with just his eyes. The hotel suite was not the best one someone could get, but the room's scent was pissing him off.
It was easy to tell that this was another man's expensive perfume in the air. How could he forget that Rowan now had a new boyfriend?
His eyes just left the walls, and he walked inside deeper to find the suite lounge. He wanted to see what Rowan was doing. After all, it took him minutes to answer the door, even if Scott had a distinct knock this man used to know by heart.
"What are you doing here?" Rowan slowly asked as he stalked the dangerous man to the suite lounge. He glanced in the direction of the kitchen, knowing that a collection of weapons was there for him. His hidden blade might have been surrendered to the police, but he still knew how to protect himself.
Yes, he shouldn't be that scared. Duke gave him the best kind of protection.
"The news of you getting attacked in one guesting spread fast." Scott found a spot in the suite lounge, glancing at the center table to find the mandatory ashtray. Every room in a hotel should have one—at least in the hotels of the capital.
"So? What does that have to do with you?" Rowan snorted and only chose the seat closest to the kitchen. He sat down, keeping his eyes on the man who kept on examining the center table. The painter then glanced at the ashtray he placed on top of a faraway cabinet. After all, he didn't like Duke to smoke while they chilled on the couch.
Of course, Rowan knew that man was looking for the ashtray. He lived with Scott for so long. He couldn't suddenly forget how that man liked to light a stick as soon as he settled on a seat. It showed when Scott still leaned back and reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket.
At the action, Rowan flicked away his glaring eyes and got up to serve the ashtray to the other person. If Scott left ashes on the table or drove a stick on it, Rowan was still the one who would have to clean it.
A smirk pulled on Scott's lips as the ashtray was placed on his side of the center table. The other continued to light up his cigarette. "Rowan, how does it feel to work for every day of your life?"