Burning Out

59- sun & moon

Song- the lakes by Taylor Swift

————————

Leonardo Alvarez POV:

"Fuckin' stuff gets everywhere," I mumble to myself with furrowed brows as my back sinks further into the sofa cushions. "I wear a black shirt and still manage to get it stained with blood?"

I cringe as the dark liquid gets on my fingertips as they brush against the clean material of my shirt. I kinda wish I was wearing something white, just so I could see how bad the damage to my shirt actually is— I bet it would be almost completely stained in an eery crimson.

I groan as I wipe my hands on my trousers, trying to get rid of some of the blood but in turn just end up gathering more of it on the ripped up skin of my fingers. This stuff really is everywhere, huh?

I pull one of my sleeves up, revealing the bottom of a dark tattoo lacing up my arm, although the majority of it is concealed by the stuff I'm trying to get rid off.

"This shit just keeps mutating, what the fuck?" I grumble out again.

It's even on my rings, even some of the most intricately designed ones having red smears filling the small engravings and indents. How the fuck am I supposed to get that out? I'm sure Farrah will be able to find a way, she always can. Although... actually, I don't really want her to have to deal with blood. I want to protect her from the gruesome side of this lifestyle for as long as possible.

It's inevitable that she will end up getting involved with it at some point, but I just want to delay it. I know I'm encouraging her to join me on some of the jobs, with the whole Stella shit playing a huge part, but that doesn't mean I want her to experience nor take part in any of the actual killing stuff.

She's too delicate for any of that. I worry that if she saw it, if she came face to face with death, then it would shatter her. She's like a piece of glass, glimmering in the light and so fucking gentle, but it only takes the tiniest pressure or force to make a crack— and when that crack starts, it's unable to stop and keeps fracturing further until the whole thing completely unravels.

I don't want that for her. I want her to be undamaged and just as perfect as she always has been. I don't want to be the one who breaks her.

I wish away my thoughts as I lean further back into the sofa, another groan emitting my lips as I dig my fingers tightly into the roots of my hair, for sure infecting them with blood but honestly not caring.

"This whole sh— " I start to talk to myself again in a low mumble, like I've literally gone fucking insane, but I cut myself off when I hear a sound echo through the room.

I turn my head in the direction of the unexpected sound, watching the door tediously crack open with a piercing creak bounding through the air following every slow movement.

My heart stops in my chest when I see the person on the other side. Matted brown hair shoved into a tangled hairstyle, tear stained cheeks to the point that the usual soft skin looks raw and red, darkened eyes until the normal hazel irises which inhabit the eyes are practically unidentifiable, puffed out lips and an overall wrecked appearance.

Maybe I have been the one to break her, after all?

I freeze as my eyes connect with hers, no single word being able to escape my lips, and I also get nothing in response apart from the deafening thunder of my heart pouring through my head. Nothing happens for the next ten seconds, at least. Neither of us move, neither of us speak— we just stare at each other.

When finally there's a sound other than my raging breath pattern or furious pulse, I feel like I'm in a dream.

It's Farrah who speaks first, her brave words breaking through the silence of both of us.