𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 ~ 𝟎𝟖

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HUNGARY, 2016
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─── · 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───

The sky was now dark as the three of them sat in the stolen BMW. Yelena and Natasha were sat in the front, Anastasyia in the back; the middle seat. The auburn haired teen let out a quiet huff as her head lolled back against the seat. They had been in a comfortable silence since the beginning of their journey and it was only now that the silence was broken.

"You know this is the first piece of clothing I've ever bought for myself," Yelena said, bringing their attention to her khaki vest. Anastasyia had to fight the urge to roll her eyes at the mention of the clothing; she had heard the blondes speech about the item before.

"That?" Natasha asked as she chewed on some gum, making sure to keep focused on the road ahead

Yelena's eyes brows furrowed as she glanced down at her vest seemingly offended, "Yeah, you don't like it?" She asked, before looking up into the mirror, her eyes falling on Anastasyia in the back. She could see the corners of her lips upturning as if she was holding back a smile.

"Hey it's not funny," she added aimed towards the fifteen year old, her eyes furrowed as she realised how quite her nicer had been since they left.

"Is that like a- an army surplus or?" The red head countered back, also with an amused smile.

"Okay it has a lot of pockets, but I use them all the time and I made some of my own modifications," Yelena started to defend her vest, which caused Anastasyia and Natasha to stifle another laugh. The blonde waved her hand in the air dismissively, her head lolling to the side to face the window only briefly.

"Oh yeah?" Natasha questioned again.

"Shut up. The point is, I've never- I've never had control over my own life before and now I do. I want to do things."

Anastasyia understood where her aunt was coming from. Ever since she was born, she had never been control of her own life; Yelena's being the same from age six onwards. The fifteen year old had essentially been captive for fifteen years, without any understanding of how the real world worked. Of course she had been trained to understand the basic expectations of society, but never how to actually exist outside of the red rooms confinements.

She didn't know who she was. How much she was capable of.

The red head finally gave in, "I like your vest," she admitted.

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