𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐒𝐢𝐠𝐧𝐬 | 𝙷.𝚂.

sixty - the second bind

mwah

-ky

____________________________

Nine's mind was buzzing.

It wasn't electricity. It wasn't confusion. No, it was anger.

The night that was intended to be an easy mission where he didn't have to kill anyone or be pestered by every member of The Nine at any point had shifted into a mess, only causing him frustration.

Even though killing Nicholas Miller was not necessarily a wrong move on their end, the primary reason he'd gone after him so vigilantly was because he targeted Kite and shot him in the fucking eye.

And now, that was not the case.

Regardless, he was stalking Blue. He'd attempted to kidnap her on more occasions than they probably knew. 

He was a part of something bigger for sure.

But he was not the one who shot at Kite that night that Zayn returned to gather supplies for the events occurring down south.

Which meant that there was another person added to his mental list of people he needed to kill. 

His mind was buzzing. Bothersome, gnawing, disgusting flies were swarming inside of his conscious, eating away at the thin wrapping he'd provided over it to protect himself and his ultimate plans. As if it was the most sick and twisted gift that had ever existed.

It was almost three in the morning now, and Nine was sitting on the couch in Kite's living room, considering searching the place for the stash of weed he knew the one-eyed fuck had somewhere.

Darkness enveloped the room, just two windows on the wall in the living room allowing dim light from the moon and alive buildings by the street to flow in on him.

A blanket was next to him provided by Kite before he went off to his own room to sleep, but Nine hadn't even touched it, feeling unable to close his eyes for too long and try to rest.

He didn't think he was thinking entirely straight.

After an informative meeting following when Nine decided that they'd questioned Samuel Berkshire enough for the evening, Zayn and Kite helped get he and Blue's things for a few days stay into the apartment.

And following their departure, Blue disappeared into the guest room, leaving the door cracked for Jagger to enter if he pleased.

Nine sat himself exactly where he is now, and didn't move.

He didn't want to.

So many things had happened in the last five hours that he just needed a while to process and gather his thoughts together.

As of right now, he felt unraveled. Disrupted. Disturbed and even dismantled. He didn't feel like himself, and he knew that it had everything to do with the mix of information they'd received alongside the burdening idea of someone directly trying to get to Nine and Blue.

Even on missions.

Nine was typically an irritated and on-edge person. It's what happens when you've spent the past two years dedicating yourself to revenge. To killing people who destroyed your peaceful life.

But right now, he felt the most bothered.

And as she tended to do, Blue found the worst time to approach him possible.

It was her talent.

He heard her door softly swing open seconds ago, followed by the careful steps she took with her hand trailing the wall for support. Nine saw her dark figure facing the couch meander into the living space, his chest rising and falling in a quiet sigh.