❝ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴏғ ᴀ ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ sɪsᴛᴇʀ ɪs
ᴛʜᴇ sᴡᴇᴇᴛᴇsᴛ ғʟᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴏғ ᴀʟʟ
ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴsʜɪᴘs ❞
~~~
🇬 🇦 🇧 🇷 🇮 🇪 🇱 🇱 🇦 :
Two days later...
I'm spun around as I take the last step of the staircase and fall back with a slight yelp, only to be caught just before my back kisses the floor.
“Morning, chéri.” My lips tug upward as he pulls me to his chest, and his lips meet mine in a brief, tender kiss.
“Morning. Someone's in a good mood.” He smiles widely, dimpling each cheek.
“How could I not be when I get to see you every day?”
My face falls as Kaz strides into the foyer. Leather covering him from head to toe and a bike helmet in one hand. His chestnut hair is tousled back, mimicking an effortless look, and his eyes… my heart drops at the look in his eyes.
Instead of the bright honey I'd known my whole life, it's now a lifeless shade of brown. Not a single speck of emotion in them.
“Morning, Kaz.” I say with a tinge of cheer. His eyes snap to me, and I have to fight the urge to cower in fear as his eyes pierce into my soul.
“El.” He says flatly. His eyes snap to Hunter for a brief moment before switching back to the front door.
“Taylors.” Without another word, he saunters out of the house.
♡♡♡
🇰 🇦 🇿 🇮 🇲 🇮 🇷 :
My fingers tighten around the whetstone as I glide it along the edge of the blade.
Back and forth.
Back. and. Forth.
The only way to sedate an uncontrolled temper is to form a wall around it. Lock it up with no way out. And the only way to do that is to habitise some form of a coping mechanism.
For as long as I can remember, I was taught to be nothing but the best of the best, and in living through that, I've habitised pretty much every coping mechanism known to man.
And after going through seventeen years of assassin training, I'd found bladesmithing to be the most calming. Not only have I forged metal with my very own hands, but I've also taken countless lives with the blades I've made.
One wouldn't believe how euphoric it is to have someone at your mercy. Begging for a life that was gone the minute I set my sights on them. The mere feel of slicing a person's tendons apart with the dagger you forged with your very own hands is a feeling I'll never be able to explain.
“Sully?” My hand stops mid stroke, and my eyes snap up to the voice. The initial irritation dissipates, and a calmness takes its place as my eyes move along Theodora's soft features.
“Theodora.” I utter as a greeting and turn my attention back to the knife in my hand.
“You know you're the only person who calls me by my full name. Well, besides Hunter... and sometimes Jason, but that's beside the point.” She takes a seat beside me, her curious gaze switching between my face and the blade in my hand.
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...
