❝ ᴊᴇᴀʟᴏᴜsʏ ɪs ᴛʜᴇ sᴍᴀʟʟᴇsᴛ, ᴍᴏsᴛ
ᴜᴍᴘʟᴇᴀsᴀɴᴛ ᴋɪɴᴅ ᴏғ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ❞
~~~
🇰 🇦 🇿 🇮 🇲 🇮 🇷 :
Four years earlier; August 2011.
With a deep sigh, I slide my blade into the side of my boot. My eyes flicker up to my target. Unable to stop myself, my eyes soften as I take in her elegant features. She hasn't changed much since I left.
Unlike months ago, her straight black hair sits at elbow length instead of shoulder length. Her eyes, which held a light that could beat the sun at its own game, now holds close to nothing.
It doesn't shine like the bright emerald I'd known all my life. It's now a dull, lifeless green like that of near dead grass.
A scrawny douche takes a seat opposite her. Curly blonde hair. Blue eyes. Looks to be, at the least, two years older than her. Probably still calls his mother mommy. She stiffens slightly when he places a grimy hand on hers. My bones go rigid with unsolicited anger.
He says something to her, and my hand finds my dart gun in my back pocket. I pull it out at record speed when his crusty lips pull into a seductive smirk. My finger finds the trigger, and I wait. For the right moment. The moment where he thinks he can get away with touching her.
His hand moves further up, and my chest burns with rage when her perfect lips pull into an awkward smile. A smile to impress a worthless piece of shit.
My jaw clenches, and I press the trigger with all my strength. To get some type of release for the anger that turns the edges of my vision red. The dart pierces the flesh of his throat, and he drops against the table he sits at with a thud loud enough for me to hear from my spot twenty feet away.
Ella gasps, those pretty eyes lighting up with shock as she looks around for the source of the attack. My finger finds the trigger once more, and I pull it. It finds refuge in that fragile throat of hers, and she drops onto the table with a gentle oomph.
I practically skip toward her unconscious body with a sudden giddy feeling bubbling in my veins and sling her delicate frame onto my shoulder. Pulling the piece of paper I'd placed in my pocket an hour ago, out, I read the words aloud to my sleeping beauty.
"Capture Gabriella Thompson," it says, written in Elijah's handwriting. I crumble it into a ball, tossing it into the nearest trash can.
"I have no idea what dear old daddy wants with you, my darling, Ella, but I guess we'll find out soon."
YOU ARE READING
The Heart Wants What It Wants
Teen Fiction❝ She wanted a fresh start, He wanted normalcy, But their past had other plans. ❞ ~~~ For the majority of her life, Gabriella had to endure all the things a child should never have to experience. After nearly two years of planning to start afresh...
