#brainshared

    ❛ oi ! ---- ❜ eyes growing wide, she freezes. the briefcase she carries suddenly heavy in her hands or maybe it’s the weight of the past; flashes of dead bodies with faces that were all too unsettlingly familiar that added to the pressure pressing down on her. part of her wants to fight, the other to ask the hardest question of all --- why? but she doesn’t. she can’t. she feels something. trepidation, perhaps?

    something tells her to run but she notices BLOOD moving outwards from between and around the other’s dress shoes, engulfing everything in its wake but the one who stood above it. forming a pool to frame a sadistic god walking on top of dead corpses. another partner dead. how many more will the reaper take? how much more can she take to lose? she asks the mundane, since backtracking to the ballroom with the objective in hand would be stupid. but was what she was doing just as stupid? ❛ fancy seeing you here, asshole. why aren’t you at the party? with that suit you’d fit in perfectly with every other rich snob prancing around on the dance floor. ❜

    and despite her ministry doing well on its own with a reliable second in command, it was her incapability that left most of her agents to have gone silent ---- back to their everyday lives until proper orders were dispatched. most laying low to avoid becoming targets. others either going out to do recon and some never coming back from death. she’s well aware as her eyes are locked onto the same man that had left her that the safety of any home or hideout won’t do the one thing it’s supposed to do. safety in a world made up of assassins is but a fantasy.

    he’s in her house, and she’s sitting on her couch. if she hadn’t looked so peaceful he may have never been able to walk up to her the way he had though, the woman was sure that she would’ve let him anyway if she had noticed his presence sooner. there is no hiding. she knows that. but she wishes she could. ❛ i know. ❜ her lips quiver, baby blues quickly tearing their gaze away and falling to the book she’s been reading. snapping the novel shut the recovering agent is quick to stand. she grabs the empty cup of coffee from the other table and hurries off across the room and into the open kitchen as her excuse to create a much needed distance.

    her reaction isn’t of fear, however, as the empty mug is set in the sink and hands grip the edge of the counter. she raises her head at the window, looking at the reflection of the other’s silhouette within the glass. there’s tears in her eyes now, shoulders trembling with intense emotions; anger, hatred, confusion... acceptance. if she were completely honest she doesn’t know what she wants to feel. ❛ this is sick yah’ know. you’re a sadistic bastard to come up here. interruptin’ my peace and not even have the DECENCY to pull the trigger. ❜ amusement leaves her lips in broken chuckles, tears blurring her vision. voice straining with emotional pain. heart break. ❛ you’re really something. ❜