merciless

DIRECIRA

33

The autumn is chilling people's hearts.

Petra isn't kissing Andy as much as they both want her to because of something unknown, and everybody else is either on edge or just simply frustrated. Their tempers are more fragile than a butterfly's wings, and any wrong touch or word could snap their patience in two.

In the midst of it all, Andy has a million jobs to fill for Darren, who has a cold. Even Pearl is in a bad mood, and Andrea is particularly terrible at pretending she doesn't know why. While part of her is exhausted and wants to melt into the ripples of her sheets, forever warm and comfortable, another part of her is bubbling and restless, about to explode with unused energy. The glow of her knives sparks something in her that she had almost lost as she had fallen into the typical roles of relationships.

She'd almost forgotten that Petra isn't the only strong one here.

Andy glances around her apartment, admiring the chipped walls. They're similar-both small, both broken, and still both more or less intact. She smiles and tucks her hair behind her ear, sheathing her knives and tucking her gun into a tacky purse she got at a thrift store going out of business. She takes a deep breath and pulls at the waistband of her jeans, wondering if they've always been so tight.

A pair of arms wrapping around her waist shock her back to reality and she smiles, leaning into Petra. Neither of them says anything, just enjoying each other's warmth and security.

"I'm coming with you, right?"

Andy's heartbeat stops. She forgot to tell Petra about her and Pearl's conversation, knowing it would make her mad.

"Well, actually..." Andy starts, but falters when she sees Petra's hands.

They're shaking.

She is just as restless as Andrea, probably even more so. Thus, Andy swallows her argument, wincing when it catches in her throat. She has to say it; though Pearl is difficult at best, she is the reason Andy's still alive and the reason for every good thing in Andy's life and that warrants some kind of respect, right?

"No."

"No?" Petra's eyes flicker, a shadow of an emotion that nobody but her could ever begin to comprehend crossing her features.

"Well, ah, Pearl says that letting you work for me violates my contract and that you count as outside help, which isn't allowed. I told you that when we met. I'm really sorry, but I need my job. I can't do anything else, Petra. Working nine-to-five would kill me. I'm sorry."

Petra's face is tense, her sharp jaw clenched and the edges of her mouth beginning to turn down. She says nothing, stuck between yelling until her throat bleeds and whispering so Andy doesn't think she's upset. However, by the nervous look on her face, Andy already knows.

"I just...I don't understand how you can listen to her-"

"Because she's my boss, Petra!" Andy raises her voice, ever so slightly. "Because she's my boss, and she controls my financial future! I'm sorry you don't like each other and I'm sorry she's in love with me, but there's nothing I can do about it!"

Andy gasps, touching her fingertips to her lips. She wishes that you could see words, grab them out of the air and stuff them back in your mouth so that they never reach the other person's ears. Still, you can't, and Petra has just heard the one thing she never, ever wanted to hear.

"She-she's in love with you?" Petra stutters, anger twisting her tongue and coating it in gasoline. She wants Pearl to burn, now. She wants her head on a stake and she wants to punch a hole in the ceiling that goes so far that she can reach through the clouds, grab Zeus's stupid, veiny neck and strangle him.

Andy nods, picking at the hem of her shirt.

"She's in love with you. And you didn't think to tell me?"

"I don't have to tell you! I haven't slept in her bed for the past three weeks, have I? If you doubt me that much, maybe we shouldn't even be together. I'm leaving. Hopefully you'll be in a better mood when I get back," Andy spits, reaching for the doorknob. Her fingertips hardly brush it before Petra pulls her closer, cupping her face and looking deep into her eyes with that dangerous look.

"You don't love her, do you?" Andrea can hardly speak. Is Petra really asking that, after everything they've done together, everything she knows? She rolls her eyes, pulling her hands from Petra's and yanking her key out of the door so she can swing it open.

"Be back later," she mumbles as she turns her heel on the threshold, slamming the door behind her. She thinks she hears something break, but she's too shaken to think straight.

The adrenaline makes killing easy.

+++

Petra can't breathe. She hates this feeling. It's one she's felt many times before-the feeling of being left alone to fend for herself. It's not that she can't, just that she doesn't want to have to. She wants someone to care enough to fight for her, maybe even alongside her. Now, she shakes from the fear that she may have simultaneously found and lost that person. Andy's voice was so cold when she left, but Petra didn't mean for her question to hurt her.

She never answered her question. Does she love Pearl after all?

She yells in frustration, grabbing a glass and slamming it on the ground so hard that it is crushed into a fine powder by the sheer force of impact. She winces at the realization of what she's done, followed by even more stinging frustration. Her fingernails scrape her scalp, trying desperately to ease the tension building up under her skin. She gives up on her anger, sulking as she settles in a corner of the couch.

She really doesn't know if Andy will come back or not, and the idea of her going somewhere else-Pearl's place, for example-makes her want to tear her hair out. Soon, her brain is replacing memories of her lips on Andrea's with Pearl's, and she wishes she could disconnect from herself completely. Only to get away from everything piled in her mind, all the problems and worries and frustrations.

One thing is clear, one thing shining bright through her foggy, sleep-deprived mind.

She's tired of being left behind.