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[comesfrompain]

{ "How fucking old is this -- Hey, you've reached Rumlow. Leave a message." }

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[comesfrompain]

[It's an ugly snort, but it's amused nonetheless. Kenzi, an angel. In disguise maybe. Rumlow doesn't believe for even a second that she wasn't born plotting. She's got mischief in her blood. She's exhibiting it right now, the way she tries to bargain for 'quality time.' If he agreed, Rumlow's pretty sure she'd even insinuate she'd like the clock to start now thank you very much.]

We are partners. [He reaffirms. And ah, there it is. A break. His fingers bury in her hair, pushing through curve his hand around the back of her neck.] And yeah, I can take a break. Tell me what you need, sweetheart.