Re: Shiloh F + Jack P: The Capital
Shiloh had heard this particular lecture on multiple occasions, so often that it went into one ear and out the other. "Internal seething isn't my forte," he simply said. The world was uncomfortable with bluntness. Heath had told him this for the entirety of their equally young lives. They weren't twins, but they were much younger than their elder siblings, and they'd been together in the nursery, having been born in the same year, and Heath was prone to lecturing. Shiloh was prone to not listening, nor did he truly listen now. "Do you think telling someone that will change anything? It won't. It just makes them dislike you, and in disliking you they'll want to do the opposite of whatever has been suggested."
He also didn't need to be told the man wanted him, Shiloh, gone if trouble came. It wasn't a requirement. He didn't view this man as someone weak who required his aid, which was probably to the benefit of both of them.
"But you aren't me, and I am talking to you. Briefly, albeit," he said, but he was sorry a moment later. Sparks flew, and Shiloh's head ached. He was reckless, yes, and he sought trouble, yes, but not the type of trouble that sparked and flashed in blue.
He heard the man's suggestion. Perhaps there was a moment of hesitation, which shall be blamed on being surprised. It could also be blamed on lack of medication for months, because going to a doctor would raise alarms he did not want raised. Second City sometimes provided, but most often not, and this was all to say that Shiloh was momentarily stunned.
But then, and without regard to the man alongside him, he ran. He ran fast and hard, furiously so, turning corners and weaving through alleys. His survival instinct was a thing newly honed, but it was well honed, and he had youth and long legs on his side. He did not even wait to see where the other man went, if he shot off more sparks, if more things were thrown. Shiloh's goal was to get as far away as he could, and as quickly as possible.