"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...
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I groan as I struggle to open my eyes, my head feeling like lead. Dull pain and continuous pounding tortures my mind. The taste of iron lingers strongly in my mouth when I move my tongue around. I finally manage to open my eyes halfway, my vision a little blurred. The unfamiliar surroundings jerk me wide awake. I swiftly sit up in a bed and throw the unpleasant pastel pink covers off me with a wince. Acute pain shoots through my entire upper body like the rush of open flames.
"Fuck,” I groan, pressing my hand against my side. My stomach and bruised ribs burn when I move. Each shuddering breath I take further stabs at my wounds.
"Hey, it's okay. I'm here," a recognizable, sweet voice says from my right. I turn towards the sound. Jennie stands near the beige door, a look of concern spread over her face.
"Where the fuck am I?" I demand, followed by a pained grimace. "And how long have I been out?"
"We're at my parents' cabin in the woods. And uh... you've been out cold for the last few hours or so." She nervously tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
A sudden thought flashes through my mind. "Did you lock the doors and windows?"
"Um..." Jennie hesitates. That tells me all I need to know.
"Shit," I mutter. Throwing the distasteful covers on the floor, I swing my legs over the side of the bed and groan as pain shoots up my ribs.
"W-what are you doing?" she asks, her fingers brushing against my arm.
"Making sure this place is secure." I glare at her, but she still doesn't remove her hold.
"But... we're safe here-"
"No the fuck we're not!" I growl, shaking off her weak grip. "It's common human knowledge that you make sure all entry ways into a house are secured, especially after an attack!"
With a wince, I manage to get up from the bed. Stabbing pain burns through my left leg, a reminder that Jennie had actually shot me. Accident or not. Shifting my weight on my right leg, I limp a few steps forward. My feet are bare, the cold wooden floors caressing my skin. That's when I notice, to my disgust, that I'm wearing a purple sweatshirt. I lift it up, grimacing at the obnoxious color. A blood stained gauze is wrapped around my entire waist, the crimson color covering the previous white color.
At least I'm still wearing my black cargo pants with dried blood decorating the fabric.
"Did you fucking change me?" I glare at her. My head spins a little, but I ignore it. Now is not the time to succumb to some minor pain. Well, minor compared to what I've endured for the last several years.
"Y-yes..." She bites her lip. " You were losing a lot of blood, so I uh… I had to."
