❝ GIRL POISON ,

❝     i  would  commend  you  on  a  well - concocted  ploy ,     if  your  intent  was  to  trick  me  into  vocalizing  fault  with  my  patients .     ❞          a  quirk  of  her  mouth ,     sharp - bitter  citrus  rind .          ❝     i  do  suppose  i  can  be  tired  of  my  patients’  behaviour  without  being  tired  of  them .       what  is  it  they  say     –––     𝗵𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗶𝗻 ,     𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗿 ?     ❞

               unctuous simper stretches across gossamer  petals — honey glistening with brimming amusement .   ❝   𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐒  ,  𝐈  𝐖𝐀𝐒  𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐘  𝐓𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆  your  resolve  &  resilience  when  it  comes  to  patient /  doctor  confidentiality , angela .   ❞  banter sets apex predator’s mind alight , watching seraph with piqued curiosity . . [ their conversations always were of palpable snark and decadent gossip ] . .   ❝  why  not  hate  both ?  you’re  too  kind  —   an  admirable  trait ,   despite  that  fact .   i  am  sure  it  comes  with  the  job  title  though ,  hm  ?   ❞  she’s all teeth and taunt ; a wolf in disguise of a lamb she used to be . leaning chin against flat of leather adorned palm .

❝   𝐍𝐎 ,   𝐍𝐎 ,   𝐀𝐁𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐘   𝐍𝐎𝐓   !   ❞   exclaims assassin who currently was marching towards him with vehement disapproval . heels clicking against hardwood , pushing him down to be seated .     ❝   when  i  explained  that  I  wanted  you  to  dress  nicely ,  it  meant  absolutely  no  animal —  or  floral  printed  ties .   what  happened  to  that  armani  one  I  bought  you  last  week ?   ❞   glistening ivories sink into the plushness of her lower lip ; brows furrowing in obvious disdain . 

             he could have worn one of his infamous turtlenecks and she’d be less perturbed — probably . . [ there was always the off chance he could have chosen an uncomplimentary colour to her dress . ] . . which , in most cases was personal taste over realism as the assassin opted to most of the time wear black .   gold greets ruby glasses with a incredulous stare ; only momentarily softening at the look of utter confusion plastered onto carved features .   palms smooth over his shoulders ; realizing the unease she may have inflicted . however , not sorry in the least  —     ❝   please ,  for  the  love  of  all  that  is  holy ,  let  me  help  you .  ❞ 

                                        THEY  ARE  JUST  AS  STUBBORN  AS  EACH  OTHER  &   SOMETIMES  ,   IT’S  PAINFULLY  OBVIOUS  .          In  fact  it’s  irritatingly  so  ,   especially  when  it  stops  her  from  helping  the  one  she     (   secretly   )     loves  .   Rolling  her  eyes  she  leans  forward  just  a  little  further  ,   thumb  brushing  gentle  circles  against  her  torso  .               ❝     It  is     always     a  flesh  wound  ,     death  itself  is  a  flesh  wound  .     ❞               Expression  then  softens  ,          lips  lowering  to  press  against  her  shoulder  .               ❝     You  will  be  okay  ,   you’ve  got  me  .     ❞

❝  I  know  death  almost  as  intimately  as  I  know  you—  it  isn’t  so  formidable  as  one  would  think .  ❞   she’s like a gunshot  : raw shrapnel ; embedded deeply in swollen angry flesh . . [ the widow’s skin crawls at the contact ; vicious ivories clenched  ] . . this individual did not want to hurt her , she knew that . but immediate defenses protested all physical contact , no matter how necessary .       ❝   𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃  𝐈𝐓   𝐁𝐄  𝐒𝐎  𝐁𝐀𝐃  𝐓𝐎  𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐃  me  to  medical ?   —they’d  take  away  my  capability  to  discern  the  pain ,  and  honestly  right  now  . .  that  doesn’t  sound  like  such  a  bad  idea .   ❞   amélie  doesn’t mean it , no — not really .   &  at declaration , vibrant honey softens as it greet’s sierra’s own .  ( delicate affection , urging assassin to be patient with her avid healer . )  leather adorned grip on her wrist reaches a clench as pain rolls another wave at her stomach .

❝  𝐘𝐎𝐔  𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 ,  𝐈  𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓  𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐃  you  all  that  sneaky  for  a  man  of  mystery . .  ❞  rouged petals part , bringing cigarette to plumpness  ; exhaling hints of sage & mint tangled tobacco .  leather adorned left seeks out strong shoulder ; whiskey hues holding his gaze with tentative inquiry . . [ caught was he — in the arachnid’s web ] . .   poison tongued assassin opting to gorge herself on decadent demeanor . willing to take her fill , even if it meant admitting defeat .  her earthen anchor , a man of precision .  silent sleuth ,  tilts her head predaceously . finally handing over the cigarette to her partner .    ❝   i  could  hear  your  steps —  they’ve  given  you  away .  such  heavy ,  deliberate  movements . . .  have  you  ever  thought  about  softening  your  stride ?   ❞