𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐍 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐖

RUINED BY TRAUMA .  you cannot get over the past. you are constantly remembering, never forgetting. you cant live in the moment because the moment is not what brought you here. you are birthed, raised, and killed in the past. you will never get over what was done to you, be it big or be it small. you cannot escape what you refuse to confront. 

“you  need  to  stop  calling  me  that.  i’m  not  little  anymore."  she  remarked  (though  with  minimal  conviction)  between  her  mother’s  pause.  her  tone  passive  to  give  no  indication  how  serious  lila  felt  about  it.  the  reminder  is  one  she’s  brought  up  often  since  becoming  of  age.  having  grown  to  dislike  the  pet  name  more  &  more  as  she  got  older.  because  that’s  just  what  it  sounds  like:  an  endearment  for  one’s  pet.  and  lila  wanted  to  be  𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄  than  her  mother’s  pet  child.  ambition  ran  through  her  veins  &  she  was  dying  to  step  into  her  own.  no  more  running  errands  or  relaying  information.  she  wanted  her  own  team,  to  be  the  one  giving  orders.  feel  the  𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒅𝒐𝒎  she  believes  will  come  with  such  a  command.

            she  reclined,  sitting  across  the  chair  instead  of  on,  a  single  leg  propped  up  on  the  arm.  just  lila  &  her  complete  inability  to  sit  straight.  half  hearted  and  without  altering  her  position,  lila  closed  her  eyes  and  took  the  breath.  "i  am  —”  she  started,  tone  mocking  people  reciting  a  yoga  mantra.  opening  her  eyes  to  look  pointedly  at  her  mother.  "a  𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓  of  a  literal  child  who  is  more  𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐈𝐃  than  the  people  i’ve  been  ordered  to  KILL.“ 

             NO LONGER A CHILD / NO LONGER NEEDED HER ,     of this she has been aware for quite some time ; hard to swallow pill , one she does not quite know how to take . her claws DUG IN DEEP , && she would not relent , would not release what she deemed to be 𝙷𝙴𝚁𝚂 -- / love become a cage , laced around a deception that would not come to the light . words spoken in honeyed tone , faux care wrapped around like a vine , in time would it strangle ; she had never known how to care without ensnaring . gaze lingers upon casual stance , an inability to sit up straight / tries not to notice , as though it does not vex her , does not cause a straight snapping of her own spine as one leg crosses over the other , chin tilted upwards as lips purse .          ‘ && if you do this well , you might have 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐍 yourself worthy of something more . ‘

            ˜”*°•.     Merged  in  a  sentiment  of  unutterable protest  and  annoyance, head was  titled  to the  side  ( impatience ).  Food of  luxury  and elegance  might  have allured  her  mother, simpler  meals  abounded with  common  flavors  were enough  for  her, though  (  satisfactory,  adequate ).  Different tastes:  the  mother-daughter  bond failing  to  simplify their  meal-time.  Another reason  why  the Handler’s  suggestion  ignited the  already  overgrown surprise,  another  reason why  confusion  crept into  her  face  (a  contentment  too ). ❝ You  are  amazing, have  I  told  you? ❞  Smile  forming  onto her  lips:  the relief  more  than just  palpable,  more than  just  visible.

          Food:  she loved  choosing  food.

    ❝ Bolognese?  We  haven’t had it  in  a while. ❞   Fingers reaching  for  the menu:  the  previous annoyance  absolutely  gone.  ❝ With  some fancy  drink.  One  of  those that  you  adore. ❞     

Stoic expression wavers only slightly with a telling squint. He does not step away, does not let his gaze leave her. To do so would be to show weakness. He cannot afford to, especially not in front of HER. She who’s grasp he’s finally been able to escape. Her lingering clinging is just that - a DESPERATE attempt to regain control over someone who cannot be controlled. He knows better than to think he owes her anything. She ruined any innocence he might have had left after his years of solitute. And for that he would never forgive her. He was never a murderer. A fighter - yes - but never the cold blooded killer she made him out to be.

                  “ Who says I don’t ? YOU ?  “

A scoff accompanies the words. The mocking of the very idea that she might still hold an ounce of power over him. And perhaps she does - he still hasn’t put a bullet between her eyes - the very notion that he might be able to kill her above him. An honor reserved for someone still wishing to free themselves from the commission’s shackles. He attempted , so did Hazel , both unsuccesful in their attempts. That was, the ones the end her life at least. In both cases they did manage to finally free themselves from the senseless killing they had been subjected to.

Well - SEMI SUCCESFULLY at least. Hazel had still not managed to gain the privilege of a peaceful death. And he- she had still managed to make him stain his hands with even more blood.

   “ I already broke my contract . I don’t have to listen to you . I make my own choices now . “

His time in the commission might be behind him now, but he knows his fight is far from over. Despite what she might think, however, it’s his FAMILY he takes up arms for this time. The timeline be damned. He would go to war for them time and time again if he had to. Even if they don’t know it.

               HIS REFUSAL SHARP WITHIN EARS / GIVEN FORTH with such confidence -- ; cannot quite comprehend what lays insidious at the base of her spine , hissing of sheer PERSECUTION . who was he stood bold as brass , words filtering through the fog of fury at being DENIED . no single ounce of contrition within her bones , sinew fused with bought but malice , && an all consuming anger that swirled within stomach . had she not forged him from the ashes of the apocalypse ? shaped && molded him into far more than perhaps he had even thought of ? of course , his use had been solely for her own sick purposes -- / 𝐈 𝐀𝐌 𝐀 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 . knew it so well , of all she was , all she CLAIMED to be when faced with choices ; would give no satisfaction of visible vexation ( 𝙱𝚄𝚃 𝙾𝙷 𝙼𝚈 𝚃𝙾𝙽𝙶𝚄𝙴 𝙸𝚂 𝙰 𝚆𝙴𝙰𝙿𝙾𝙽 ) , she would not stand so docile , smile painted upon lips that does not meet hues of emerald -- glittering with animosity towards he who believed his life still his own .                                       he was a killer , of that she had made sure all that time ago -- dissolving what had lingered from times before the end of worlds ; 𝐈 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐁 𝐑 𝐔 𝐓 𝐀 𝐋 , as all that remained to her now . standing upon her choices whilst he stood upon his own , throwing aside all gifted in time when none other had offered air -- 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙾𝚆𝙴 𝙼𝙴 ! screamed within her mind , pointed glare an indication of all that lay simmering beneath a calm facade / a beast in fancy clothing . upwards tilt of chin , fortified upon attempts at her life that did not reach fruition / 𝙸 𝚆𝙸𝙻𝙻 𝙽𝙴𝚅𝙴𝚁 𝚁𝙴𝙻𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙴 𝚃𝙷𝙾𝚂𝙴 𝙱𝙸𝙽𝙳𝚂 . none who tried to run ever made it out alive , her hold too tight … claws too sharp .  she did not know how to let go , she never had , she would never learn .                ‘ you do , you 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐄 to slaughter the members of the board -- for your family , of course ! ‘                        heels click as she moves , circling / a shark scenting blood upon the water . sigh pushes through her teeth , fist perching against her cheek as she stands behind him -- ; as though considering 𝚂𝙾𝙼𝙴𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶 . silence holds the reins now , nothing more than her simple presence / a thickness in the air of 𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 , awaiting the strike that could perhaps rear its head -- not that she would fall prey to such a thing , though … the 𝚄𝙽𝙿𝚁𝙴𝙳𝙸𝙲𝚃𝙰𝙱𝙸𝙻𝙸𝚃𝚈 tasted oh so sweet .                                 ‘ && despite it all , here we are . ‘                 click of her tongue as she rounds to stand before him , slender digits reach -- personal space 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃 , && she affixes fingers onto knot of tie , straightening it for the sheer purpose of drawing out that 𝙳𝙸𝚂𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙵𝙾𝚁𝚃 she knew brewed from her sheer presence .                    ‘ what a happy little cycle we always seem to find ourselves in , though truth be told , you’re starting to grow a little 𝚁𝙴𝙿𝙴𝚃𝙸𝚃𝙸𝚅𝙴 in your demands . ‘                      flex of fingers , gentle tap of tip to cheekbone before she draws away -- / amusement flitters , easily read between notes of lilting laughter that peel between her lips .

𝐈 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐃𝐎 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐏𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐘 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐘

eyebrows      furrow      the      second      her      words      reach      his      ears,      head      tilting      to      the      side      in      a      mixture      of      curiosity      and      𝖋𝖆𝖚𝖝      𝖍𝖚𝖗𝖙,      scoff      escaping      past      nephilim’s      lips      before      hand      finds      its      way      onto      his      chest,      giving      𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖚𝖎𝖙𝖞      to      his      dramatics.        “      did      you      just      call      me      stupid      ?    “