Classified || 2 || ✔️ mature

12 | Lilac

MONTHS EARLIER

"That wasn't very nice, Angel."

I start at the voice that erupts in my apartment as soon as I exit the bathroom. Not thinking, I spin and grab one of the closest loaded guns from the wall and fire,

"Fucking hell."

The figure in the armchair rolls off and onto the ground, the bullet I'd fired lodging itself in the wall.

I point the gun at the figures head as they roll to a stop only a metre in front of me, crouched to the ground.

They stand up slowly, blood caked hands dusting imaginary lint off his jacket.

"Put the gun down, Angel."

"And why would I do that?" I cock my head to the side.

He tilts his head back at me, dark eyes twinkling.

"Because I asked nicely?"

"We don't always get what we want."

He huffs, rolling his eyes at me as he shrugs out of his jacket, folding it over the armchair beside the bed before beginning to unbutton his crisp white shirt. With each button a new sliver of skin is exposed, the intricate ink of his tattoos peeking out.

I didn't even know he had tattoos.

"What are you doing?"

He ignores me, pulling his muscled arms out of the shirt before throwing it beside his jacket. He turns back to me with his arms outstretched by his sides.

My eyes track down his corded muscles, the dips, and grooves of his abs on show before I reach the V of his hips and the bulge just below that I can see clearly through his black slacks. My gaze travels back up to his pecs, my head tilting at the tattoo of deaths scythe over his heart.

I look back to his eyes.

"Well then, shoot me." He drags a bloodied finger to his left shoulder, pointing just below his collarbone. "Right here, I want matching scars."

My eyes flicker to the blood seeping from the left side before I slowly walk up to him, biting the corner of my lip.

He watches me like a predator watches prey, taking slow measured steps backwards.

I watch him as the back of his knees hit the armchair.

I shove him down onto the chair and he tumbles back, his hands curling around the armrests as he continues watching me.

I stop in front of him.

"Stay." I smile sweetly at him, turning my back on him as I walk for the bathroom, the steam from my earlier shower still permeating the air.

"That was mean Angel, you got me all excited."

"I'm sure your right hand will help you out."

"Been a bit overworked lately." He mutters lowly but I still catch it.

I roll my eyes, bending and grabbing the first aid kit from under the sink.