Facade

04 || bad idea

I chuckle, almost amused by his confidence.

"I know exactly who you fools are and who you belong to." I look at all four of them to gauge a reaction before redirecting my attention to Gabriel.

"I just don't give a shit."

We are a safe enough distance apart which seems to calm my racing pulse. My demeanor doesn't give it away though.

If anything, I seem just about as calm as they are.

He looks down and lets out a short breath through his nose, almost like a laugh. His posture and face, on the other hand, tell a different story.

He's calm.

Too calm.

He moves slowly towards me and I fight the urge to back away. Hands still in his pockets, eyes trained on me, he proceeds to take his time inching closer to me.

In complete silence.

Once he's too close for my liking, I take the smallest of steps back. I guess it wasn't small enough cause it causes Chris to shift off the fence from behind me and step to the side.

Without moving my head, I shift my gaze to my left towards Antonio. The look on his face is completely different from mine.

He looks nervous for me.

Then glancing at Chris to my right, he looks like he wishes he could be in Gabriel's place.

I look back in front of me to Gabriel who finally breaks the silence when he and I are toe-to-toe.

"You should."

At this point he's so close that I forgot what I had said to prompt his response.

"I should what?" I ask, keeping my voice leveled to hide the uneasiness I feel about forgetting what he said.

That and the intensity of his proximity.

He tips his head to the side by less than an inch while he removes his hands from his pockets. I eye his moments calmly but cautiously, still keeping a hold on my breathing.

Finally, his hands are at his sides, taking a long metal object out in the process.

Meeting his eyes again, he amusingly raises a brow and presses a small button on the side of the metal. A click sounds and a blade appears from it.

A knife.

"You should give a shit." He responds in a low tone.

I force slow, deep breaths through my nose to avoid looking as scared as I feel. But while I'm focusing on my breathing, he takes the opportunity to step closer.

Then, everything happens in a second.

I'm shoved up against the wiring by two strong arms. His forearm is placed against my collarbone, keeping me against the fence, and the other holding the blade to my cheek.

The cool metal on my skin causes my movements to still, instead of fighting back.

I don't need this thing poking my eye out if I try to move the wrong way.