Roscoe

As the clock ticked away the late hours of the night, you found yourself drifting into a deep sleep as you waited for Roscoe to arrive home. As you slept, Roscoe had slipped silently through the door, her movements silent as she moves towards the couch. As you lay there, Roscoe's hand was instinctively reaching for the dagger concealed beneath her coat. her gaze lingered on your peaceful form.