"Well, maybe there is one advantage of being in love with a killer. I won't hesitate to kill for you. As long as you are by my side, I got you, sunshine."
𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪───※ ·✯· ※───𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪
When a cold-hearted assassin falls for her sweet target, she must ma...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The plan was simple. Follow the girl around for a day and wait for the right moment when she's alone. From then on, it should have been easy-peasy. Kill and disappear, as always. Don't think, don't feel; just complete the assignment and move on. I should have been long gone by now, and yet I'm still here, the emotions and feelings bubbling up to the surface once again.
The girl before me doesn't even attempt to struggle. She stares at me with wide fear-stricken eyes as adorable as a kitten's. I have one hand around her throat which is so skinny that I can break it with a single movement. My other hand is grasping the hilt of my knife, the blade pressing against her throat. A tiny trail of blood trickles from the cut, staining the collar of her obnoxious pink sweatshirt. All I have left to do is one clean slice, and my job is done. That's it.
So why does my hand refuse to budge?
Her brown eyes swirl with the warmth of the morning sun, shining into the depths of my soul. My heart feels as if it's thawing from being frozen for years. My breath shudders as I press the blade a little harder against her skin, but just enough so I don't fatally pierce her. I clench my jaw as I will myself to take the last step; the one remaining action required of me to return to Eve's good graces.
And I can't. It's as if there's an invisible barrier which blocks me from completing the assignment. I didn't feel that when I murdered the little girl. Not even close.
"Fuck," I hiss. I remove the blade from her throat and shove her into the wall before taking a few steps back. I exhale through my teeth and glare at her. She shivers while reaching her hand up to rub at the visible red line on her throat.
I look her up and down. She's wearing a pair of skinny jeans with a pink hello kitty sweatshirt and white, pink-striped sport shoes. Her brunette hair is tied into a thick braid which I'd noticed from earlier. The lighting here is dim, but it somehow only accentuates her pale complexion. Her almond-shaped eyes are filled with fear and for some weird reason... curiosity. Her button nose fits her small face so perfectly, it's as if God himself carved each facial feature on her.
She doesn't look as skinny as she did the first time, but she is still built like a twig. She looks absolutely powerless compared to me, or to anyone in general, and yet... she has some sort of hold over me which disrupts everything I've known for the last sixteen years.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" I mutter, pacing back and forth across the room. I stash my knife back in my pants before running my hands through my hair in exasperation. I don't know what I'm doing. Why I'm doing it. None of it makes sense.
"So are you going to kill me or not?" the girl asks. Her angelic voice stops me with one foot in midair as I slowly turn towards her. I narrow my eyes at her in surprise.
"Do you want me to kill you?" I ask, tilting my head to the side in curiosity.
"I'd honestly prefer it if you didn't." She weakly smiles.
