killshot | simon riley ✓

• Chapter 7 •

In her dreams, Rora felt untouchable.

Usually, her dreams consisted of fragments of the past, the constant tossing and turning occasionally interrupting her dreams. The only ones that seemed unescapable were the nightmares.

And her nightmares were about the only man she have ever loved.

When she was seventeen years old fresh, ready to hate on the world with all her being, flipping off every male that dared to glance her way, she met Everett Saunders.

Seemingly, they were perfect for each other. Two angry teenagers, wishing to change the world, run away from all their problems and hide away on a little island where nobody could bother them, ever again. From the stolen glances to the steamy nights there was nothing that could come between them. It was just the two of them, against the whole fucking world.

Until Everett started looking into drugs. And after that, nothing was the same.

Her mind decided that it was only fair to punish her with one of her most painful memories of him. The night when they committed their ever first robbery.

It was a mildly cold night in October when they attended one of their friend's birthday party, but the duo got bored easily. They were perfect for each other: just as one of them thought about something, the other seemed to do the same, often not needing words to communicate their thoughts. And just as they sat on the stairs leading up to the front door, it looked like they were thinking about the same thing again.

„Do you want to do something fun?" Everett asked, his eyes hanging upon the night sky above. She took a moment to look at his side profile, just admiring him: his messily tousled brown hair, the slightly crooked nose from all the fighting, his soft lips, his chiseled jaw.

Noticing her lack of response, he flicked his eyes from the stars to her eyes, ocean meeting with earth. She never saw such beautiful brown eyes like his, and he never saw anything that could come close to the beauty her crystal blue eyes held. And for a moment, they just held each other's gaze.

„I'm always fun," was her answer, earning a light chuckle from him.

„But I can't do you now, baby," came his low answer, goosebumps appearing on her skin along with a light blush. No boy could make her blush, other than him.

„Shut up," she punched his shoulder, earning a full laugh from him this time. She only rolled her eyes at him, trying to hide the blush behind her hair. „What else do you have in mind?"

His eyes focused back on the night sky, her gaze following his. Because of the light pollution, and because the party took place in the Bronx, New York, the stars in the sky were pretty hard to see, but she still found them beautiful. One of their dreams was to live on a small island, preferably just the two of them, so they could just be next to each other with no clothes, enjoying the sun and the sea. And in the night, they could lay under the stars, getting lost in the infinity of space, talking about sweet nothings.

When she looked into his eyes, she could see the stars she sought to see so badly, shining brighter than anything else in the universe. Next to the otherwordly shine, there glistened something else: that something else being the desire to do something illegal.

With that, he reached into the pocket of his beat-up leather jacket, which was always a little too big on him, pulling out some fabrics. It was two bandanas, one of them a plain white one, the other a black one with a skull printed on it.

„Have you ever robbed a store?"

And the way the two teenagers smiled at each other, they knew that they were going to be the next Bonnie and Clyde.