Toreth enjoyed planning things. It came with the job territory, really. You had to plan how to interrogate people, keeping everything well-paced and not rushing through any of the parts. Each part had its purpose, whether to instill fear or build a semblance of rapport. Planning was fun.
It was much the same when it came to setting up any encounter, whether sexual in nature or not. He planned. In this case, he kept an eye out on how Parker's schedule worked. When she would be out, when she was generally called for to run an errand, what time she usually came back to her room barring midnight escapades. He also worked on his breaking and entering skills, which wasn't exactly something he was top notch at. That wasn't quite in his job description, after all, although it did come in handy from time to time. Luckily the doors here had simple locks; it was just a matter of waiting for nobody to be watching.
He felt like somewhat of a stalker by the end of it, but he had done worse before. Besides, it wasn't too much effort to expend just to see the look on her face when he was lying in her bed with his fucking shirt on, thank you very much, and briefs. Not too much effort at all. He busied himself with poking around her room inconspicuously until she came back, cataloguing probably stolen items, and when he guessed it was about the right time, he casually sat on the bed, leaning back on his palms.
The pay-off would be worth it. Hopefully. At least the returned 'fuck you' sentiment would've been worth all the effort. He had few hobbies these days, apparently.
no subject
It was much the same when it came to setting up any encounter, whether sexual in nature or not. He planned. In this case, he kept an eye out on how Parker's schedule worked. When she would be out, when she was generally called for to run an errand, what time she usually came back to her room barring midnight escapades. He also worked on his breaking and entering skills, which wasn't exactly something he was top notch at. That wasn't quite in his job description, after all, although it did come in handy from time to time. Luckily the doors here had simple locks; it was just a matter of waiting for nobody to be watching.
He felt like somewhat of a stalker by the end of it, but he had done worse before. Besides, it wasn't too much effort to expend just to see the look on her face when he was lying in her bed with his fucking shirt on, thank you very much, and briefs. Not too much effort at all. He busied himself with poking around her room inconspicuously until she came back, cataloguing probably stolen items, and when he guessed it was about the right time, he casually sat on the bed, leaning back on his palms.
The pay-off would be worth it. Hopefully. At least the returned 'fuck you' sentiment would've been worth all the effort. He had few hobbies these days, apparently.