Work Text:
Montague sighs, his gaze on his hand outstretched in front of him. He flips it around, admiring the gems on the back of his glove as they glimmered in the moonlight. “What a shame…” His eyes flick up to his reflection staring back at him in the mirror. With practiced ease, he reaches for the glove with his free hand, slipping it off smoothly then slipping on a non-descript black one. After doing the same for his other hand, both hands come to rest on the lapels of his coat. “A shame really.” Montague mutters as he slides the coat off his body. As much as he loved exuding glamour, he would have to prioritise efficiency for tonight, for his “hobby”.
He smirks as he stares at himself in the mirror. Still as charming as ever, even if he had to abandon some parts of his outfit. His hand reaches for the shining blue pendant around his neck, the last and most glaring part he needed to do away with. Well, not exactly. There was absolutely no way he would ever leave his precious gem unattended, it was simply unthinkable. He tugs on his collar, wide enough for the pendant, and drops it in. A slight chill runs through his chest. Finally tearing his eyes away from his reflection, he grabs a black mask and heads out the door of his room. His excitement bubbles as he strides down the hallway, the familiar thrill settling into his bones. He wonders what exquisite valuables he’ll acquire tonight.
Growl
Montague’s pace slows. He listens.
Growl
He wasn’t imagining it, that was for certain. Now the question was the source. Wild animals? No, theirs were more animalistic and besides, unless some had broken into his luxurious hotel, the growling was too close to be from outside. Someone playing a prank? No, he had trained his guards better than that and it was so late that all The Society members would have to be asleep. As he thinks about it further, the answer comes to him and he almost berates himself for not realising it faster. Of course, he thinks, as he starts walking to Oscar’s room.
Without thinking, he reaches for the doorknob. Wait. This was wrong. Not that this wasn’t the door to Oscar’s room, but it wasn’t the right door. Montague looks over his shoulder, his eyes travelling to the entrance of the hotel. He tightens his grip on the mask in his hand, the other runs through his hair. Thievery was a craft, one he had honed from skill and experience. No matter how excellent he was though, he still considered every detail carefully. He knows without even checking that now was the perfect time to strike.
Growl
His grip loosens, his hand leaves his hair. A strand falls back onto his face, covering his eye and he has to tuck it behind his ear. Montague sighs, maybe he’s cold. He moves to a cabinet, the black mask dropped unceremoniously on the top as he starts to pull out a blanket. Oscar didn’t usually growl, only when he was on the hunt or felt threatened. But he didn’t usually stay in the colder parts of the island either, only here for a meeting that Montague had called. He justifies his actions as “taking responsibility” when he finally turns the doorknob and quietly walks into Oscar’s room.
He’s lying on his side, a blanket already covering his sleeping form. In and out, just like I always do . Montague steps over to the side of the bed, unfurls the blanket and drapes it over Oscar. Even with his desire to hastily get out, he can’t resist the temptation to admire the tiger’s fur and muscular frame of his shoulders. His hand twitches but he ignores it. In his admiration, he notices something odd about Oscar, about his breathing. It’s fast, shallow, and not the even breathing he was expecting. He leans in and finds that his face is scrunched up, particularly his eyes. He’s not sleeping well. Could it be.. Montague doesn’t finish that thought. Oscar was strong, ruthless. Whether it was a nightmare of some sort or something else, he was sure the tiger would deal with it just fine. Anyway, it wasn’t like he was thrashing wildly or screaming. Montague turns to leave.
Growl
His room was far enough from Oscar, his sleep wouldn’t be bothered by the growling. Still, he doesn’t take a step towards the door.
Growl
Maybe one of the other Society members would get woken up. Maybe Valeria. Her room was closer than Montague’s and frankly he couldn’t have her, or anyone for that matter, be anything but in their best shape for The Society’s upcoming plans. I’m doing everyone a favour, he reasons as he turns back around to face Oscar. He doesn’t have to know it was me. His hands reach out and land gently upon the tiger’s shoulders, his fingers sinking slightly into the soft fur. He shifts his hands around slightly, to get a good hold of his shoulders of course, before shaking him.
Growl
It is quieter this time. And as he sees Oscar’s face soften and his breathing even out, Montague knows it is time to go. He’s out the door before the blankets shift and the door is closed expertly without a sound. It wasn’t exactly the thrilling heist he planned but oh well.
Perhaps, old habits could be avoided with distractions.
~
Oscar has questions in the morning - about the faint memory of a nightmare he might have had, about the appearance of a second blanket covering his body, and about the black mask sitting on the cabinet in front of his room. He thinks he might have the answers to all of them. After all, The Society boasted one very professional thief. Though, his skills might be slipping, Oscar muses as he gazes down at the mask left behind.