merciless

DZUO

02

ANDY'S apartment is what you'd expect from a low-level assassin.

It's small and shaded by larger, sleeker buildings housing larger and sleeker lives, but she has no look of longing in her eyes when she gestures out of her small window.

In fact, she seems contempt with the chipped walls and faded carpeting; even smiling when the door hinges squeal like its a secret language. It's clear the small, one bedroom apartment is obviously important to her, but Petra is only concerned with sleeping arrangements.

So far, they haven't talked much. Andy tossed the body, Petra cleaned up the blood, and together they walked down the road, eyes glinting and already thick as thieves; partners in crime. When Petra continued to silently trail Andy after they split up, the assassin asked if she needed a place to stay. After realizing that she would have to take a chance with the small girl or resort to killing for a place to sleep, and finding that she was already bloodied enough, Petra sighed, nodded, and they walked home.

The goddess has found that Andy, though more of a silent killer, is definitely not a silent person. She enjoys having someone to fill the holes in the conversation, but she just wants to take a shower and go to sleep. Finally, Andy escorts her to the bathroom and leaves her be, with her thoughts, a ratty blue towel, and a bar of soap.

The steep girl has to sit in the bathtub to use the shower, but she doesn't mind. she pulls her knees to her chest, letting the cold water wash away blood and dirt and Zeus knows what else may have crawled under her skin. She tilts her face up and gasps when the frozen droplets pelt her face, icy rivulets slithering down her back. The nice, cool feeling is gone, and she shakily washes herself before wrapping her shivering form as tightly in the towel as possible.

Something keeps her standing where she's standing for a moment, her eyes blankly caught on the water pooling beneath her feet. That something feels a lot like a "what are you doing?" and it runs colder than the water dripping from her icy skin.

She is grateful when Andy knocks on the door, greeting her with a change of clothes. Petra quickly drops the towel and pulls the strange fabric over her head, laughing when Andy's eyes roam her body for a second before looking away, blushing. It's a t-shirt and shorts, and it feels good swishing against her skin so freely. It's a pleasant break from skintight training suits and lacy, corseted, flouncy Olympic attire.

When Petra is done dressing and drying her hair, she walks out of the bathroom towards the couch area, where a still-flushed Andy sits, her gun and a vast assortment of knives sprawled on the table in front of her. She seems cooler, calmer with so much sharp metal around her than without. It's like the shine of a deadly weapon instills killing instincts in her, which Petra likes.

After sitting on the faded brown couch in silence for a while cleaning her weapons,Andy yawns and stretches her arms behind her head, her shirt riding up to reveal several thick, white scars lacing her skin. Andy notices Petra's gaze and quickly tugs the cloth to cover her faded wounds.

"You can't win 'em all," she says, standing up. When Petra says nothing, she clears her throat. "Anyways, it's like four in the morning and I have work in a couple hours, so you can take my bed if you want. I'm fine sleeping on the couch."

Andy gestures towards her bedroom door and Petra doesn't protest, trying not to sprint towards the bed when she sees it. The small bed, sheets dotted with pink flowers, is a sight for the especially sore eyes of an especially worn out goddess, and she falls into a deep sleep fast.

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sorry this is so short, I just wanted to write something and post it while I could! I'm really happy w how this is going, and with the positive response I'm getting! Any feedback is always welcome, so just tell me what you think!
P.S. picture above is Andy

(unedited)