Conell awoke a few hours later with a stretch and a yawn that quickly turned into one of those weird stretch/yawn yells. He quickly pulled back the cover of the bed he had borrowed. Obviously he had kept his word and he was glad that he did. The apartment may have been one hell of a shit hole but the previous owner seemed to have decent taste when it came to beds at least. Although pretty much anything could be considered good compared to what he was used to. He got up off the bed and caught himself in a rectangular body sized mirror on the wall. He hadn't seen it last night because of the darkness but now it was pretty damn clear due to the morning light shining through the windows.
Conell stared back at himself. The thing most of note was that he was stark bollock naked. He hadn't slept with his clothes on if he could help it since he had left prison. Back there he always had to be ready. He had absolutely no control over his life. At any moment his cell door could open and five men could rush in all with shanks to make Swiss cheese out of him. Out here he could nearly always be up and ready to take on a threat before they could get to him and he was using that fact to full advantage. It had been a dream to sleep somewhat comfortably again. So yeah, apart from noticing that he was in fact naked he saw his eyes first. It was hard to see in the low light but they were blue. Blue and bright. Bright and wild and cold all at the same time. He was actually happy about how his eyes looked, a lot of the cons back in prison had those dead, hopeless eyes. It was like all life had been drained from them. They had fought and they had lost, but instead of getting back up and into the fight they remained in that state. Permanently defeated. Or at least that was the tale their eyes told.
He then moved his eyes down and checked his body out for the first time in quite a while. He didn't exactly know how to describe himself. Lean would probably be the right word. He wasn't fat and he wasn't skinny. He was a tad bit on the thin side he guessed, but he had stocky shoulders and a kind of well built physique. He exercised regularly. Had done for many, many years. There were no diets in prison though. No protein shakes. Still, he was in good enough shape, good enough to kill a man twice his size toe to toe anyway. Though he imagined that was more to do with how violent he was. Very few surpassed him in that field.
Getting dressed he soon found himself in the kitchen once again, rooting through all the drawers. It didn't take him long to find the tin opener. Walking back to the bedroom he retrieved the can of beans from his backpack and ate them hungrily. He was going to save the spaghetti for a special occasion. Fed and ready Conell made sure his SMG was properly loaded and strapped his weapons and backpack on before heading off. He didn't really know where he was going, but he would find something. Out here you always did.