🪐𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐🪐
🪐𝚅𝚘𝚝𝚎&𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝🪐
🪐𝙴𝙽𝙹𝙾𝚈🪐
⏳ ᯽ ⏳ ᯽ ⏳
"Promises are only as strong as the person who gives them."
⏳ ᯽ ⏳ ᯽ ⏳
[Y/N's POV]
Sprinting out of the back entrance, I drink in a drowning man's breath as the icy air ignites a blazing fire within me.
"Breathe," a small wisp of breath escapes my cracked lips, rising in a white vapor in the bleak midwinter air. I bring my shaking hands to my face, feeling how my fingertips and the rough material of the bandages gently slide over the outlines and edges of my features. A simple touch, yet it feels like a luxury now.
My vision focuses through my fingers but the silvery moonlight that makes the moist asphalt look black remains only a backdrop to the chaos that takes the central stage. I lean back on the cold brick wall, fluttering my eyelids close. My head lolls from right to left as if trying to shake off the voices in my head that overpower the roaring sound radiating from the club. "Just breathe."
I've put a good number of people in the ground during my reaping days, made loads of foolish decisions, and even more enemies. But never once in my life, I regretted any of them. Because that's what real life always was for me.
Life: It's not the easy days of youth or the trivial worries of adulthood, not the ever-diminishing black space that the majority of people float in. It's the feel of danger, the sensation of chasing trouble, the thrill of being one decision away from death. That's what real life is for me. But this, this gruesome feeling that controls my being isn't the vibrant thrill of adventure. No, it's an entirely different thing, something I haven't experienced in a while.
It's the dreadful terror that numbs my feelings. That eerie dread of a horrid monster lurking in the shadows that used to make me crawl under my blanket in childhood. It's fear. A woman who has throttled men, put bullets into women, guided bombs towards elderlies is scared. And that says something.
I wish I could say my eyes played a trick on me but It was him. In his full glory my brother, the only person who was capable of breaking me throughout the years, was sitting there next to a foe who I mistakenly considered a friend.
It hits me like a tide, the full gravity of the situation. The blood freezes in my veins and I can feel myself grow pale, as breathing becomes awfully difficult. Suddenly I'm painfully aware of my own existence and my role in this fiasco.
Acid rushes up my throat and a second later my hand is holding the damp brick wall for support as the lunch I've never had comes churning out.
There's static in my ears. My head grows lighter and lighter with every passing second. My fingers feel tingly and the body begins sweating profusely. And I give up, letting my body float in the space that seems to have no gravity as I prepare myself for the painful impact with the solid ground.
It never comes.
A pair of hands grip my arms, desperately trying to hold my pliant body up. Even though all I want is to fall, to feel the desired luxury of being weightless even if it's just for a moment, my holder doesn't allow me to.
"Sheet!" My supporter curses and I vaguely recognize the voice that seems far away as my vision tunnels and my heart starts palpitating, hard. "Oh, barnacles! Stand on your own!" she chides, smacking my face and trying to keep me coherent. "You aren't exactly weightless!"
"I trusted you," I whisper while trying to steady myself. And when I drag my weary glare to her face, I see the sheer disappointment slowly pooling in my eyes as she dry-heaves.
"You came in, didn't you?" Nicole asks, her words heavy with concern as her hands slowly let go of me.
I'm not buying it.
I take a step back, watching how she blows out another heavy puff of air. "You can hate me all you want later, now we need to get somewhere safe. There are things you need to know before jumping to conclusions."
"If you think I'm coming with you," I spit out, feeling how my senses slowly come back to normal functioning. "Then you're fucking delusional."
"Y/N, I need to talk to you-"
"Then talk."
"It's not safe here-"
"I said I'm not coming anywhere!"
"He'll get both of us killed if we get caught," She hisses, doing a very poor job in hiding her Russian accent that leaks through her panicked words. Nicole steps forward in an attempt to reach for me. She's scared, that much I can tell. Doesn't necessarily mean I should care.
"I don't give a fuck!" The furious words burst out of my mouth and land on her face like a hard slap. She halts on her tracks.
Nicole looks around like a frightened child and when she's sure we aren't being eavesdropped she turns to me. The profound sadness and disappointment hidden beneath my words mirror in her black irises as she yet one more time steps closer to me.
"Just liste-"
"I don't fucking care if the Reaper decides to take me over the bridge right now and right here," I whisper. "I've had enough. I've seen enough. The argument of being killed won't work for me. Come up with something else, Nicolia."
"You have absolutely no right to speak about death like that."
The echoey whisper of a masculine voice rings like a bell to my ears, making my body go stiff and solid. What the...
"Do you even listen to yourself?" Nicole asks, her words colored with heavy disbelief. But her question shoots in one ear and directly out from the other as my full attention stays focused on the continual pumping of my heart and the annoying voice that I can't seem to push away.
"You're not living only for yourself." Like a silk ribbon, his whisper hangs behind the tip of my ear.
"Yes," the word is quiet, yet I'm sure Nicole hears it perfectly. Her worried eyes scrutinize me as if to make certain I won't try anything stupid.
"Your life is two lives now."
My teeth grind so hard, I can practically feel my gums rubbing against each other. I glare at Nicole but don't really see her. Instead, there's another's face in my sight, another voice in my head, and the subtle reminder of the promise I made to him: I won't talk about death like that.
Stupid Kim Taehyung with his stupid face, stupid voice, and stupid words. Stupid!
Without taking my eyes off Nicole I clutch the cold gun handle tucked into the holster at my forearm. And when she has a clear view of the deadly metal gripped between my fingers I notice how all the color drains from her face. A small gasp, colored with panic and shock, drifts from her parted lips.
"If I didn't know any better," I speak, my words harsh and still, "I'd think you'd never seen a gun before."
"Y/N-" her voice creaks like nails down a ceramic plate before breaking into dry laughter, "Chto ty delayesh? Eto ne smeshno." (What are you doing? It's not funny.)
"Good, because it wasn't supposed to." My hand deliberately raises, pointing the barrel at her face. "You see, Nicole, I and the person you're currently working for don't differ much." I articulate sternly, "What makes you think that he will get you killed for being a two-timer but I won't?
Her lips tremble, fox-like eyes losing their surety of safety as she looks like she'll be sick at any moment.
"And to answer your question; I'm not trusting you, that's what I'm doing. You wanted to take me somewhere, right? Then move, I'm coming. But one wrong move and I won't hesitate to shoot."
"Y/N, what ar-"
"Believe me," I speak over her quaking voice, "I may even shed a tear afterward but I won't hesitate to pull the damn trigger, so you'd better not test me."
Nicole hesitates. I can see it in her eyes but she also fears and my icy glare glued on her face isn't helping. She gives me a downhearted nod before silently moving towards her motorcycle and offering me the place behind her. I follow her without uttering a word, still pointing the gun at her.
As I position myself behind her, I make sure to slide the safety of my gun on. Because no matter how many threats leave my mouth, they are nothing but sheer despair hidden behind the angel's bluff. Because in the end, no matter what, I won't be able to harm someone dear to my heart, someone I consider a sister. I scoff. Maybe the only difference between me and Mac.
Nicole, however, needs to stay oblivious to that fact. And she will.
The only two people who were ever able to see through my proficient bluff were my dear brother and Yoongi. Luckily for me, none of them is here.
⌛ ᯽ ⌛ ᯽ ⌛
The place Nicole leads me is a penthouse apartment in the apartment complex located in the center of Seongdong-gu. For a kid of 22 with no parental figure in sight and no confirmed occupation, Nicole's doing pretty well in life.
When she opens the door, looking like she might cry at any moment, all the lights are on. Had I not known her as well as I do, I'd think there's someone at home. But as a person who sometimes had the honor of sharing a room with her, I know she never switches off the lights. Too scared of the monster that might hide in the dark and adorably oblivious to the fact that the monsters hiding in plain sight are equally dire and horrendous, if not worse.
"Still a scaredy-cat I see," I observe, stepping in after her and locking the front door. With a sonorous import, the snap of the lock pierces the deadly silence of the apartment. Nicole casts an anxious look towards me but says nothing regarding the matter.
"Just a habit," she mutters in response, her voice faint and devoid of the usual enthusiasm I remember.
She saunters down the hall and to the living room where the whole interior screams Nicole.
The whole place can be defined as an architectural marvel of polished stainless steel, glossy glass, and splash of neon colors. The extravagant graffiti in neon purple and green painted on the wall perfectly complements the black, matte brickwork facing the huge panel of spotless glass which overlooks the shining cityscape that's drowned in the golden hues of the night lights. There are target sheets here and there with small throwing knives plunged in them that indicate her obsession with blades hasn't faded away with years.
The wooden dining table in the middle is surrounded by black velvet chairs, where Nicole takes a seat, waiting for me to join her.
But the focus of my attention is an entirely different thing.
The silver flash of tinsel, matched with the twinkle of numerous flamboyant, many-colored balls, glisten against the rich green of the huge Christmas tree that's positioned in the middle of the room. A fucking Christmas tree!
My dumbstruck expression doesn't slip Nicole's notice.
"What's wrong?"
I slowly walk towards her, occasionally glancing at the tree. "That's a Christmas tree," I state, taking a seat in front of her. I keep my eyes trained on her as my free hand slides over the surface underneath the table to make sure there's no hidden weapon there.
Nothing.
To tell the truth, stupid, really stupid.
The smallest of scoffs escapes her pouty lips. "I'm aware of that fact. Why are you surprised though? Christmas is in three days."
My eyebrows shoot up along with my eyes that nearly fall out of my skull. "Seriously?"
"You didn't know?"
"It's kinda hard to keep a track of time when your psychotic brother is trying to hunt you down like a mad animal." Lifting my hands to my hair, I tug some strings as an unamused chuckle rises from the ends of my throat. "Lovely, isn't it?"
Nicole shifts in her seat, avoiding my eyes as the fact that my statement made her uncomfortable becomes obvious. It's okay, the truth has that effect sometimes.
I put the gun on the table, giving my full attention to her. But before demanding desired answers from her, I have to make things fair, because there are unspoken words pushing against my throat, crawling up onto my tongue like an unsettled bile and I have to spit them out.
"I'm sorry," I state, from the corner of my eyes noticing how she becomes taut with tension. "I'm sorry for everything."
"What? Y/N, don't-"
I hold my hand up to silence her. "I'm sorry for leaving you there in the gob of a shark, knowing fully well it might close at any moment. Out of all the stupid things I did, abandoning you in that mansion was my biggest mistake and I'm sorry. But I can't change anything now, can I?" I bark with a peal of disheartened laughter.
"I was possessed by the fear of losing my life and I acted like a coward, mainly because I was a coward." A sarcastic scoff drifts through my mouth as I shake my head with a semi smile lingering on my lips, "it hurts my pride to admit this."
We lapse into a heavy silence, simply choosing to stare at each other. Her black glimmering orbs are piercing but hold no morose emotion in them. A mournful breath of distress passes through my lips and when I speak again my voice is low and calm.
"I know you don't understand me, don't comprehend the reason behind my seemingly meaningless actions but I can assure you that my reasons are worth fighting. I promise that I'll tell you why I crossed the line that I wasn't supposed to when you tell me why you decided to shake hands with the devil."
Nicole's hesitant gaze lingers on my face for a moment before she gulps and adjusts her tight ponytail. "Okay," and with a heavy breath, she starts her story.
And as I sit here, listening to every word coming out of her mouth, I can't help but feel guilty because all this is only my fault.
⏳ ᯽ ⏳ ᯽ ⏳
Hey Angel!
I know you probably hate me for making you wait this long but I had my reasons which are going to be explained later, I promise.
Thank you for reading and don't forget to voteت︎
Till the next time. Purple yaa...🧸