𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘀; ❝ just because i'm a woman doesn't mean i still can't kick your fucking ass. ❞
in which a boy and a girl are
forced to come together in
order to defeat a common enemy
𝗢𝗥
where two heartless assassins
learn how to love again...
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JASON WASN'T AN IDIOT. HE MAY BE ARROGANT, somewhat of a pessimist, a little bit cruel, but he was no fool. He knew Athena wouldn't stay put. She was stubborn. Especially with things she's already set her mind on and angry about. And if he gathered anything from their conversation earlier... She was absolutely livid.
He caught up to her as she was creeping down the stairs only 27 minutes later. She barely took one look at him, told him to fuck off, and continued down the decent. He didn't listen of course. He'd stayed in her shadow, lagging slightly behind buildings to not get in her way. He knew she was aware he was following her from the way she moved: zigzagging behind buildings, nimble and light footed on the brick roofs, evading heavily lit streets so she could blend into the night.
It was cute, he had to admit. But she must know that it wouldn't deter him. They had both been through the same training, studied under the same mentor and therefore, shared the same sure-footedness and skill. Her futile attempt at evasion caused Jason to smile.
Although, however amusing it was to watch her try and lose him, Jason wondered why he didn't let her do just that. Wondered why he cared so much over her going that he couldn't afford to lose sight of her. Why the thought of her being killed twisted his insides and wrenched out his ribs. Hell, the thought of her being hurt made him nauseous.
Regardless of everything she'd said to him earlier... Ever since the Scarecrow incident, he couldn't get the image out of his head. Her, sitting there, eyes clouded, face covered with blood, blade angled at her chest—so much pain. And it was burned into the inner corners of his mind.
He couldn't bare to see her in that much agony again. The vulnerability. The pain. The dread—he'd never seen such emotions from Athena before. He didn't think she was even capable of experiencing those types of feelings. Was it the shock that made him think about it so much? The utter surprise that Athena, a woman he's seen gut a man before and had witnessed men grovel at her feet in fear, to be completely engulfed and frozen in such a helpless state. Calling and begging and sobbing and scared. Like a child. A child who needed to be held.
Fragile.
Dipping around the corner, Jason came to a halt as he spied Athena reaching down to pet what a dark figure. A black cat. He was a few meters away from her now, leaning himself on the brick wall with his arms folded across his chest. There was an odd sensation that came about when watching a heartless killer take time out of their night for such a trivial matter as to show some attention to an animal. Along with how gentle those death bringing hands could be. How delicate fingers could look as they stroked behind ears and down the feline's tail. The cat seemed to enjoy it, too. Running it's body next to her leg and nudging it's head against her calf. In the shadows of the building, it was hard to tell cat from shadow, much like it was hard to tell assassin from darkness. They were both reflections of each other he came to realise. Delicate, sly, vigilant. Both covered in black. Cats had a tendency to only come home when they needed something. Would often refuse help to get somewhere, lashing out. Reluctant to wanting be helped. In his experience anyway. He never liked cats.
