Kill me softly - Minsung

Chapter 8

         

Of course, it wasn't fate. Minho was a trained assassin, he had completed tasks way more difficult than finding out where a person was heading to next.
Always be aware, always watch out, you're never save. It was one of the first Lections Minho learned. He knew it. He knew them by heart. All of the rules and lections. He went over them time and time again. He wrote them down. He said them to himself and studied them – Everything to become better and get out of the system as soon as possible.
Maybe he swayed in the fact that it would probably all be over soon or maybe he just didn't want to live in constant awareness the whole time but as he was walking down the street, heading to his apartment, he didn't notice it. Looking back, it was so obvious, but he just wasn't aware. How stupid.
Harshly someone grabbed onto his jacket and shoved him into a dark ally, pressed him against the wall and punched him square in the face.
From one moment to the other he was fully present. Quickly he scanned the scene. A woman, dressed in black, a bandana covering her nose and mouth. She raised her arm again but Minho pushed her elbow out and dove through her arm that was pressing him to the wall and changed their positions. He spat out the blood that was running from his split lip into his mouth. He realized the metallic taste from it, smelled the rubbish from one of the containers a few feet next to them and the muddy must on the wall behind them. He felt his breath on his lips, the adrenalin pumping through his blood. A smirk formed on his blood smudged lips.
"What do you want?", he demanded to know, pressing the women even further into the wall, his arm across the chest of heirs do that it'd be hard to breathe.
"A message to Jung-Ho.", she managed to get out through gritted teeth. It was definitely important to her to deliver that message as she yanked her knee up. Minho realized just a second too late so it hit him. Only lightly but he still let go of the women.
She must have used his short lack of attention to chunk out a knife. She lunged forward, knife pointing towards Minho but he stepped aside. A sharp pain ran through his right arm. She hit him. Minho was officially totally pissed off now.
"You fucking bitch.", he cursed under his breath. She attacked him again but this time Minho was prepared. As she lunged forward Minho moved aside. Grabbed her wrist, turned it downwards, stepped, left, right, left, and pushed them backward. It was almost like dancing he thought. Time seemed to slow down and he had total control over every move.
The women hissed as Minho firmly held her wrist in an abnormal position and pressed her to the wall. His back was pressed to her front so he was able to use his full weight to shove her back.
"Who the fuck are you working for?", he tried talking to her again. Jung-Ho had enemies all over the world, he assigned kills after all.
"None of your business.", she hissed.
"Honey, I think it kind of is my business since you just like, tried to kill me.", Minho turned her wrist even more.
"Fuck you. I am not afraid of you. You've never even killed someone.", Minho was just sick of her bullshit. This time he didn't only turn her wrist but, in one quick motion, twirled her whole arm around. He heard her bones cracking and let her drop to the ground. He picked up the dagger which laid a few feet from them and looked at her once more. She lay on the ground, hate brightly burning in her eyes as she clutched her arm tightly to her body.
"There are worse ways of hurting people.", he stood up and left. As the adrenaline was starting to sway off, the pain of his split lip began to be noticeable. He tried to wipe off some of the blood with the sleeve of his sweater, but it was dry by now. He licked over the hot spot on his bottom lip and sighed. He wouldn't be able to go to dance practice like that tomorrow.

Minho dropped the knife on the desk in his room. He hadn't turned on the light, there was enough coming through the big window above his bed. The copper-toned light got reflected on the blade. It actually was quite a nice dagger. It wasn't too big and had a slim blade. As he rested it on his fingertips it shivered slightly left and right before coming to a halt, it was perfectly balanced. She must have stored it inside her boot.
Minho took off his denim jacket and then his sweater. He had to rip it off his shoulder as the blood from the cut had dried and now glued the fabric to his shoulder. He hissed, as he the wound started to bleed again. Minho always hated how much little cuts bled despite their size.
The cut wasn't the smallest and he headed to the bathroom to clean his wounds.
Minho stopped wiping the blood from his lips and looked into the mirror for a minute. It was so stupid of him to met Jisung. Minho just took Hyunjin's words too seriously. Bild a life after the assassin time. He knew that he would never be able to live a normal life. There would always be someone who had information about him. He couldn't let someone become his Druck. Not that Jisung was that person for him. He was just a pretty face he made out with but at the same time, Minho felt like there could be more. Usually, he didn't go after these feelings because of already mentioned reasons.

Minho really needed to get himself together, like really. He threw away his wipe and turned away from the mirror. 6 more months. Only six fucking months then he was out of everything. It wasn't that hard. He didn't have any mentionable relationships with other people for the last 10 years what was half of a year compared to that? Nothing.
He threw his sweater away and slipped into his bed. He was frustrated and just wanted to sleep.

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Oh wow, I really can't write action scenes smh.
Hope you still enjoyed.
Then, as always, take care and I'm out.