"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 don't need to check Lena for a pulse. She's deader than a doornail, no longer a threat to me or Jennie.
Blood stained shards of glass and broken wood cover the entire area above the trapdoor. With a wince, I bend down to grab two corners of the rug. Being careful not to let any of the glass spill out, I remove it from the top of the trapdoor.
Lena's body is impaled on the table leg a few feet away, so I don't need to move her. But a sudden thought flashes through my mind as I glance at the curtains covering one of the windows. With a slight limp, I reach it and pull the fabric off the hangers, the bright sunlight nearly blinding me. Walking back to the couch, I throw the cover over Lena's body. It's big enough to hide her entire corpse and most of the blood stained glass shards.
I don't want Jennie to see that gruesome sight. She's already been through too much, I can only imagine her state from just hearing the fight. Besides, I don't need her throwing up all over the place. The stench of vomit mixed with blood is far from pleasant. Speaking from experience.
I hook my fingers under the latch and swing it open. Jennie's terrified eyes greet me. Her body tenses when the door crashes to the floor, but relaxes right away when she recognizes me. She probably feared that I was Lena.
"I'm so glad you're okay!" she exclaims, bouncing up and wrapping me in a hug. My body tenses at the contact, so I just awkwardly stand there with my arms hanging at my sides. She then peers up at me and softly gasps. “Your… your face!” Her hand brushes the cuts on my skin. I flinch at the contact.
"I'm fine,” I say in a hoarse tone that definitely doesn't support my statement.
“No, you're not fine. You–”
I gently pry her off me. “I said I'm fine, Jennie.”
Jennie's eyes wander across my face with a type of worry I've never seen before. Genuine worry for me. She looks like she wants to say something in response, but nervously bites her lip instead.
She glances around. "What happened to-" her voice trails off. Her eyes widen in shock as they land on the beige curtains draped over Lena's body. Bloodstains have already started to seep through the thin fabric. "You... you killed her?"
I raise my eyebrows. “What else did you think was going to happen?”
Jennie returns her gaze towards me, her horrified eyes penetrating through me. "I don't know, but this… the way she…" her voice falters.
I take a deep breath and soften my tone. "Do you think this was easy for me? I may be a killer, but Lena was still my friend.”
“I… I thought she wasn't your friend?”
Jennie has a point. Lena was never my friend, as it turns out. Not a real one, anyway. But we were still friends in a way that counts. When you're someone who kills for a living, your options for friends become limited.
