A wicked smile blossomed upon the blond’s visage, his head tilting forward a fraction of an inch to further drink in the sound of Haven’s wavering tone. Agreeable. Rhys relented an entertained scoff of challenge. Agreeable individuals don’t force him to travel the globe only to be willing to more or less cooperate when forced against a wall - it hardly mattered to the hunter the circumstance of why Haven chose running, though. Agreeable individuals certainly don’t manifest a borderline obsession to poison and fester his every waking thought either. Which is exactly what this hunt for Haven has evolved into for Rhys. An obsession.

Haven tried once more to attest to the fact that he was not in fact lying, and Rhys desired to strangle the man until his life force seeped its way completely out of his eyes, and into a last breath that Rhys would have inhaled from the dying individual with pleasure. The shorter male’s hands reached for his own, though rather than fight the action and attempt to simply plunge the knife into Haven, Rhys didn’t react. Not even as the kitty’s claws further sank into his flesh.

“The hell man. Calm down. I didn’t lie, its in fucking Norway.”

Rhys’ brows shot up so high they grazed the ceiling. He heard nothing following those words. Norway. Norway. Norway! The blond found himself internally at the crossroads of homicidal rage and sheer disbelief. The sensation of Haven trying to craftily undo Rhys’ grasp of the blade was the only thing tethering the hunter to his present reality - the one where Haven did not have the drive on his person. Fastening his grip on the knife, ignoring the sensation of Haven’s nails gripping into his hand, Rhys allowed a chilling sound to fall from his lips. A quiet, callous chuckle reverberated in the space around them. It was lacking any essence of humor, though it certainly possessed a sick amusement. “It seems the height of stupidity measures roughly at 5’8.” Were the first taught words to be uttered from Rhys’ clenched jaw as Haven finally relented from his futile attempts to disarm the blond.

Haven’s hands remained, as did the knife Rhys held to his lip, and the pressure he kept against the man’s neck. Reeling his head back by a small margin of distance, he allowed his green gaze to travel down Haven’s figure - hardly in a sensual manner, but more so in a thoughtful ode. “I would say you're the perfect size to be crammed into a large suitcase.” Rhys finally spoke after a silence he let fall between them, his head tipping to the side as his eyes re-met Haven’s. Unfortunately, Rhys did not have time to go suitcase shopping though. All of his own travel items were neatly packed away already. Another load of luggage would clutter the car, and it was entirely possible he might accidentally forget to give Haven “breathing time” every so often if he did stow him away. Such an inconvenience this man is to him. “If you had the drive, this trip would have been cut much, much shorter.” The hunter muttered under his breath, though now he had to ensure Haven remained in his custody for far longer than previously anticipated. Obviously the man was a major flight risk, and this completely spoiled the original plan to get Haven back to the states.

“You are going to walk with me to my car without sound, and without any act of protest, do you understand me?” Rhys’ hand on the male’s throat loosened, only for his index finger to be able to slide to a place above the nape of his neck, that he tenderly tapped against. “Or I will render you a paraplegic for the rest of your life by shoving the knife into this sweet little spot of yours here, I swear it.” It was perhaps the most serious Rhys had allowed himself to be in the short time they have been face-to-face. And only then did Rhys pull the knife from the man’s lip and remove himself completely from Haven.

Considering he was teetering too heavily on a line that bordered just putting Haven into a vegetative state and ransacking all of Norway for the drive, Rhys drew in a sigh that faintly re-poised his stature. “Champagne Buick,” Rhys stated while gesturing to the door with his knife. “If you’re a good lad I’ll allow you to ride shotgun for the entirety of our excursion versus incapacitating you and throwing you in the trunk” Rhys grinned in a manner of faux assurance. The blond planned to follow closely behind Haven, for more reason than one until Haven got into the vehicle. Considering Rhys had the keys on him, and the ability to lock the doors once Haven got in, the predicament would do for now. But Rhys would not allow Haven any chance to remain in this room for any longer - the Drive was not here, there was no point in remaining.

Haven held back a snort at Gustav’s comment regarding his height and stupidity. Haven would have to disagree, well, with whatever Gustav was implying. Leaving the drive in an undisclosed location had inevitably bought him more time to figure something out, unless his captor decided to strangle him to death right here. There was an uncomfortable silence between them, Haven’s head pressed up underneath the blonde’s neck, his back flush against him as well. He could feel every calm breath that Gustav made, as well as the thump of his heartbeat. Had he been in a joking mood, he might’ve thrown out a tease about how he was surprised to find Gustav had a heart at all.

“I would say you’re the perfect size to be crammed into a large suitcase.” Haven tilted his head up, ever just the slightest to keep from stabbing himself. Meeting the other man’s eyes he tried to convey as hard as he could one ulterior message: don’t you dare. He watched, his features softening after a moment, as the bounty hunter rambled for a second about how he should’ve had the drive with him, and that their trip was shorter. Well, might be bad for the hunter, but it was good for Haven. Those who knew Haven were well aware that in the grand scheme of things, the art thief looked out for himself above others.

Haven snapped his attention back to the man as he started talking again. At the same time, he quite literally shivered as the man tapped against the spot on the back of his neck. These threats were not getting any better. First it was needles up his nose, now it's the threat of being a paraplegic. Haven did his best to feign submission, shifting his gaze to in front of him again and letting his own hands fall to rest against his thighs. He had expected to be made to verbally answer before being let go, so when the hands dropped from his throat, Haven stumbled briefly before righting himself. He turned himself around slowly and only raised one hand to dab at the light trickle of blood underneath both of his eyes. When his fingers came back sticky, which he knew they would, he grimaced at the sight but quickly wiped the residue on the back of his opposing arm.

“Don’t throw me in the trunk. I’ll… I’ll behave.” Haven replied disgruntledly.

It made sense that someone like Gustav wouldn’t let him be awake and unattended in the trunk. If that were the case, there would be too much of a risk that Haven could kick out the lights on the back of the car. Which had been the initial plan when he heard the man say they were going to a car. Nevertheless, he was sure he could at least wreak some sort of chaos up in the front of the car. Gustav couldn’t drive and watch him at the same time. Which meant, quite a few options in Haven’s case. Who knows, maybe he’d find himself in possession of a car by this time tomorrow.

Now that he had the opportunity to though, he was going to grab his things, there was no sense in leaving it there. He had also bought some oranges, so he felt compelled to grab them as well.

“I’m going to grab my things, but uh sure. One second, Champagne Buick… Got it.” Haven told him before retreating deeper into the room, stooping to put his shoes on and then grab his duffel off the floor. He opened up the fridge, and pulled out a few oranges and stuffed them into his bag. As for the remaining food he regarded it for a second.

“Gustav? How do you feel about salami?” He waited for barely a second, “Actually you’re right, that can just stay here.”

Haven stalked his way back over to the door where Gustav and his knife were waiting. He carefully reached for the door and pulled it open, giving a wide smile and saying.

“After you.”