Millie's ass stung slightly as she walked across the room, but she didn't let onto it. She didn't even turn around to look, she simply held up her middle finger behind her back, a slight smirk on her face as she walked towards the door. She had expected to meet Angel on the roof, not running down the stairs in a soaking wet hoodie which she quickly shrugged off and threw over the door. "Hey, no, I was looking for you." Millie told her, slightly enjoying the motherly-tone in Angels voice.
It's starting to get late.Millie would never admit it, but sometimes when Angel was protective of her, even if it was just to keep her out of the rain, she enjoyed it. They were remarkably close in age, more like sisters than anything, but Millie missed having a motherly figure in her life, and it was nice to have Angel there, knowing she had her back. "Yeah, he told me about the fight." She said, turning and walking back down the stairs. Deon bid them farewell just as Millie and Angel re-entered the room, the door shaking it's hinges as it slammed behind him. "Actually, he invited me to be one of his topless bimbo's. I said yes to the invitation, no to the topless." She laughed. "I also invited Victor. I've no idea who he's fighting tonight, but I've not been to many fights so I guess it's not too important." She realised she was rambling and got straight to the point, "But, yeah, I was about to invite you, so going together sounds great."
She caught sight of her appearance in the one mirror they had in the hideout. It was large, but it was cracked and it split her pretty face in two, making her look slightly wrong as the gap in the mirror warped her face, spacing her eyes too far apart and stretching her mouth out. Her hair was still damp from the rain and starting to curl and the hoodie she was wearing had a tear across the pocket, not to mention her jeans had slight wear on the knee's. She needed a change of clothes before they went out tonight, definitely. The only decent item of clothing she was currently wearing were the boots she had '
found' a few weeks ago. They were leather and supple and feminine and she loved them. The perfect fit. Perfect for running and climbing, too.
An hour later found Millie in the club with the others. The fighting hadn't started and she hadn't seen Deon yet, but the atmosphere was heating up which meant it couldn't be long. There were a lot of people here, in various stages of intoxication. Millie started as a woman close to her tumbled off the stool she'd been sitting on and had to avert her eyes when the woman proved that underwear clearly wasn't a necessity in such places as this.
"I'm heading to the bar." She told the Wolves. Millie stepped around the pool of liquid the womans drink had left on the floor and strolled over to the bar, her hands in the back pockets of the
white jeans she'd exchanged her blue ones for. These felt much better, and they hugged her figure perfectly. The black, long sleeved cut-of
top she wore exposed just the right amount of flesh so she wasn't over-heating but nor did she feell like one of the cheap hookers that hung around outside the bar. They probably got good work on nights like this. These were the kinds of clothes Millie reserved for herself, she kept them, and a few other choice items, locked away for whenever she might need them. She was somewhat of a hoarder, and very possessive of her things.
"Hit me with a beer." She told the old bartender, who looked at her sceptically.
"No way is you old enough to get served in here." He said, waving her off.
Millie raised her eyebrows and smiled, more to herself than anything, running her tongue along her teeth as she did so. Her red painted lips pursed and she leaned in slightly. "We can do this two ways. You can serve me without a problem, or I can give you a problem and report that little bag of white stuff you just gave to that prostitute outside. Then I think you'd have a big problem, don't you?" The bartender opened his mouth to argue but Millie frowned and he closed his mouth, his eyes wide as he looked over the girl, clearly having misjudged her initially. Millie wasn't about to let that happen. "There is another way we can do this, of course."
She leaned her elbows on the bar, clenching her hands togehter, something silvery glinting as she did so. The bartenders eyes widened as he looked at the bracelet on her wrist, from which hung a tiny little handprint shaped charm. Seemingly insignificant, but extremely effective. He rushed around quickly and, in seconds, Millie was sipping her drink, smugly looking out across the bar as she waited for the fight to begin.
