𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 | 𝐒𝐨𝐂

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐘-𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄. 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋

His gaze was electric, crackling with life and intensity. Through the shadows of misery, the pockets of cruelty pulsating behind layers of broken smiles. Infatuation - for Natasha - burnt like raging stars.

"I should get going," Natasha stepped beside Nikolai in several strides. She could smell the woody scent of cologne on his clothes. "I've got people I need to see," Nikolai gripped her arm, twisting her to face him.

"Where are you going, doll?" His voice wasn't warm or sweet. It was rough, full of rage. The shadows of misery lurked into life, the pockets in his mind leaking with cruelty. King Nikolai would make her pay.

"Let me go,"

Nikolai chuckled bitterly. "Wouldn't that be a shame, doll?" His breath was cold, burning her skin like ice. "I understand you're busy. Especially when Bo Yul Bayur is waiting patiently for you, and your little crew," Her eyes widened, lips parting in horror.

"Surprised?" He smirked. His thumb trailed across her lower lips. "I know a lot about your heist, doll," Natasha shivered beneath his touch, her chest rising in falling in jagged heaves.

"I don't know what you're talking about,"

"Always been such a horrible liar," Nikolai said nonchalantly. He took a sip from his champagne, tipping the glass in her direction. "I can see right through you, doll,"

"What do you want, Nikolai?" Natasha spoke darkly. "An apology?"

He scoffed loudly. "Don't you think that's slightly overdue, doll?" Natasha flinched at the pet name. "Besides, I'm sure we all know how horrible you are at apologising," His words were a kick in the kidneys.

"Then what do you want?"

"We can discuss that later," He let go of Natasha's arm, sweeping imaginary dust off his shoulder. "I'm sure you've got some friends to say goodbye to," Nikolai pointed to the staircase behind him, a pattern of footsteps growing louder.

"Now, don't miss me too much, doll. We'll meet again - sooner than you'd think," Nikolai left with a wink. His words - sounding more of a threat than a comforting goodbye.

But Natasha didn't have time to think about Nikolai and his appearance.  Kaz Brekker was bounding down the stairs with a dangerous look on his face. Natasha felt that she could melt.

His hair was a mess of raven curls. His lips parted in ragged breaths. His eyes were dark and determined, bleeding with confidence and charisma. "Natasha," Kaz breathed. He stepped forward, arms almost moving to hug her. He pulled back at the final second.

He nodded stiffly instead, forcing his arms down to his side. "Did anyone hurt you?" He noticed the blood slick on her arms, forming a dripping halo around her feet. She shook the blood off her boot.

"Nothing I couldn't deal with," Natasha looked back at the space Nikolai had stood moments before. "Is everything alright downstairs?" Kaz looked down at the ground, swallowing the growing lump in his throat.

His body shook with relief. That Natasha was alive and alright - that his negligence hadn't killed her. A tear trembled in the ducts of his eyes. He was sick with exhaustion, the bare feel of his hands - without his gloves. He hated the touch of Frejdan tunics beneath his skin. The emptiness- without his cane. He wanted nothing more but to be rid of this stupid place.

"Who are you looking for?" Natasha looked down the infinite rows of cells. "Where are the others?" Kaz scowled, biting down any weaknesses. Dirtyhands had a job. He'd got the rough work done.

"You ask too many questions," Kaz said, grabbing her sleeve. "Just shut up, and try not to get us killed," Natasha rolled her eyes, not objecting. His eyes were distant, clouded with eclipsed shadows.

"At least tell me who you're looking for,"

Kaz ignored her for several moments. "Pekka Rollins," He didn't need to look at her face to see the disappointment in her eyes. He felt stupid against her gaze, judged silently by Natasha.

"Kaz," Natasha said sharply. "What are you doing?" Her words sliced through his cerebrum - carving a jagged question mark on his heart. 

"Doing what I should have done a long fucking time ago," he breathed. He looked down at Natasha's side. "Have you still got your knives?" He knew that they hadn't passed Natasha through security. They hadn't bothered clearing her pockets or checking for weapons.

"Kaz," Natasha warned.

"Have you got your knives or not?" Natasha sighed. They both trailed slowly down the length of the corridor. It seemed impossible. Natasha and Kaz had no luck with finding Pekka Rollins.

The minutes ticked by dangerously, drowning them both in shallow waters. Kaz Brekker refused to let the water win. He was Dirtyhands, the bastard of the barrel. He was Kaz Brekker, and there was no job too dirty.

Natasha knew Kaz had seen him as his posture stiffened. His lips pursed into a thorny grimace, his fingers screwed tight in his palm. He pulled lockpicks from his mouth, holding the two silver picks between his fingertips.

"Are you not going to stop me?" Kaz asked, bemused. His gaze was almost curious, daring her to stop him. He bent down to his knees, coaxing the pick through the silver lock. Natasha slumped her shadows, drawing a knife from her sleeve. She weighed the gold hilt in her palm. 

"You deserve this," Natasha whispered, placing the dagger in his hand. She wanted to reach out and grab his hand - to give him more than an exhausted smile.

"Jordie does," Kaz corrected, allowing the cell door to slam shut behind them both. 

A/N 

- Nikolai finally appears! It's so insane how I've written 45 chapters in the span of two months. Anyways I hope you guys like this new villainous version of Nikolai. If you're confused don't worry the reason for his vendetta gets explained through the coming chapters. If you enjoyed please vote and comment - I love hearing from you guys. Go check out my Darklina oneshot I published to! 

- rosa <3