Sigurd pulled out his pack of smokes, offering Mikkel one because he knew they could both do with some stress relief after that shit show back in the alley. Hearing the Dane speak caused the Swede to intake a breath and near snap his cigarette in half with anger but he forced himself to calm down just for Mikkel's sakes.

"Bastard. If I had been there when he tried to buy you---"

The anger simmering up in the Swede's eyes once more as he forced himself to stare out of the window as he lit up taking a few deep drags before even trying to speak again. Shit. He decided to forget about those fuckheads because they weren't worth shit. Hands now drifting into Mikkel's hair, not caring what the taxi driver thought. For all he knew this was a rock star with his girlfriend who was a dancer.

"I know. But I still worry about you. That pepper spray to the face though? Fucking epic."