Confrontations, a drabble
Jun. 11th, 2013 02:17 am"They left you in charge of cleaning that mess up? Are you sure they can trust you not to run off with all that money?"
The jarring question had Marley blinking, and she glanced up in surprise, and instantly scowled, spotting the Warbler uniform out of the corner of her eye. She straightened up and took in the full view in front of her. Hunter Clarington, Warbler Captain, leaned against the wall and smirking. Like he had a reason to be smirking at her.
"Unlike you, my team knows I'm trustworthy," Marley returned, her fingers curling around the money in her hands. Kitty's quasi-friendship was rubbing off on her. "I don't take midnight runs to the neighborhood dealer."
Anger erased the smirk from Hunter's face, and his hands balled into fists at his side. He stood up, and Marley had to lift her eyes to him, and the looming wasn't the only intimidating thing about him.
"Those are false allegations, and I won't hear of them aimed at the Warblers," came the too smooth reply. Marley almost felt pity for causing his face to close up, but she wasn't going to ignore blatant lies, not when they'd had the proof of them sitting in the choir room just days prior.
"I've heard testimonies from three Warblers who say otherwise."
The simple statement caused Hunter's face to harden, and Marley felt a second pang of regret. The last thing she wanted to do was alienate him. That wasn't her style, even with the borrowed claws itching to scratch.
"If it meant winning, it would have been worth it. If Evans hadn't left things well alone, nothing would have come to light. The steroids kept them going, but the skill? Pure, raw talent."
Hunter said the words proudly and it was Marley who scowled, this time with disgust.
"Was there a reason for this visit?" she asked, instead, and Hunter's smirk was back, and he was advancing forward, and Marley shrank backwards.
Hunter slapped his hand onto the table, and the sound startled Marley enough into looking down at it. Enough money for more than a dozen calendars lay on the table beneath his fingers, and Marley was staring blankly at it.
"Our contribution to charity," Hunter explained airily, and Marley furrowed her brows in confusion, because who was this so-called charity?
"What?"
"Show Choir Support," Hunter made a face, like the words felt difficult to say. "Smythe's idea, his good deed of the week." The distaste for the other Warbler was clearly shown.
"We appreciate it," she chirped, changing her tone, and plucking the money from him. She added it to her stack and smiled sunnily at him. "Please, take your calendars, and have a good day."
Hunter opened his mouth to reply, but shook his head, and left, the calendars left where they'd been propped against the table.
The low buzzing of her phone brought her attention to her bag, and she fished her phone from it, glancing at the text.
Unknown Number: If you'd been in that themed mess, you would have sold more. Think about that for volume 2. --Captain
Marley didn't know what disturbed her more, the thought that Hunter Clarington had just texted her (Who else would be vain enough to refer himself as Captain?) or that she didn't mind, her face flushing at the crass words. She quickly deleted the text, not before saving the contact as 'Captain.'
The jarring question had Marley blinking, and she glanced up in surprise, and instantly scowled, spotting the Warbler uniform out of the corner of her eye. She straightened up and took in the full view in front of her. Hunter Clarington, Warbler Captain, leaned against the wall and smirking. Like he had a reason to be smirking at her.
"Unlike you, my team knows I'm trustworthy," Marley returned, her fingers curling around the money in her hands. Kitty's quasi-friendship was rubbing off on her. "I don't take midnight runs to the neighborhood dealer."
Anger erased the smirk from Hunter's face, and his hands balled into fists at his side. He stood up, and Marley had to lift her eyes to him, and the looming wasn't the only intimidating thing about him.
"Those are false allegations, and I won't hear of them aimed at the Warblers," came the too smooth reply. Marley almost felt pity for causing his face to close up, but she wasn't going to ignore blatant lies, not when they'd had the proof of them sitting in the choir room just days prior.
"I've heard testimonies from three Warblers who say otherwise."
The simple statement caused Hunter's face to harden, and Marley felt a second pang of regret. The last thing she wanted to do was alienate him. That wasn't her style, even with the borrowed claws itching to scratch.
"If it meant winning, it would have been worth it. If Evans hadn't left things well alone, nothing would have come to light. The steroids kept them going, but the skill? Pure, raw talent."
Hunter said the words proudly and it was Marley who scowled, this time with disgust.
"Was there a reason for this visit?" she asked, instead, and Hunter's smirk was back, and he was advancing forward, and Marley shrank backwards.
Hunter slapped his hand onto the table, and the sound startled Marley enough into looking down at it. Enough money for more than a dozen calendars lay on the table beneath his fingers, and Marley was staring blankly at it.
"Our contribution to charity," Hunter explained airily, and Marley furrowed her brows in confusion, because who was this so-called charity?
"What?"
"Show Choir Support," Hunter made a face, like the words felt difficult to say. "Smythe's idea, his good deed of the week." The distaste for the other Warbler was clearly shown.
"We appreciate it," she chirped, changing her tone, and plucking the money from him. She added it to her stack and smiled sunnily at him. "Please, take your calendars, and have a good day."
Hunter opened his mouth to reply, but shook his head, and left, the calendars left where they'd been propped against the table.
The low buzzing of her phone brought her attention to her bag, and she fished her phone from it, glancing at the text.
Unknown Number: If you'd been in that themed mess, you would have sold more. Think about that for volume 2. --Captain
Marley didn't know what disturbed her more, the thought that Hunter Clarington had just texted her (Who else would be vain enough to refer himself as Captain?) or that she didn't mind, her face flushing at the crass words. She quickly deleted the text, not before saving the contact as 'Captain.'