Bullet Shaped Heart

020.

~ L i l i a n a ~

Seductress, the lipstick shade I currently have on, but also my mission for tonight.

I stare at my target from across the room while there is a bullet shaped hole in my heart. Not really a bullet, just a graze.

A bullet graze is always worse than the bullet wound. A bullet wound is obvious, it hurts because you got shot. There is a foreign body in you and its painful.

A graze is odd. The bullet merely touched you, yet it hurts, which is confusing.

Carson Alexander Kingston, is the bullet.

I'm in Paris, on a damn mission with no back up because I drove him away and that's all I can think about.

I felt naked without the dark eyes that always eyed me from across the room.

I looked around the room analyzing it. I expected he'd follow me, but thankfully he didn't.

I look to the giant red door to my left. Jonathan Lincoln used a key card to open it. He went into the room. Mere seconds later, someone exited holding a champ gun glass with a messy looking suit.

That was the VIP portion. One I could only get into with a key card. One I didn't have.

I walked up to the mysterious man with the champagne glass. He looked about 10 years older than me. He downed his glass in one long sip when he saw me approaching.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" For a split second, I worried he knew who I was, but worry gets you nowhere.

As a child I was often accused of being cold hearted. I always had trouble showing my feelings especially showing people that I cared. Thats why my high school boyfriend and I broke up, only I didn't really care for him that much.

I react on the inside. Whatever emotion I have, its what helped me through all this. If you freak, you die.

"Care to dance?" I stood there trying to play the shy girl. I needed to make myself look small. The smaller I looked, the more shy, the more he'd be attracted to me.

Apparently men liked things they could control, those that flourish aren't of their interest.

His hand clasped around my waist the way Carson's did, but he didn't hold on to me the way he did. He held onto me as if he was the predator and I the prey, while that wasn't the case at all.

I ran my hands across his chest, looking for the card in his blazer and shirt.

An old trick my brother taught me. You'd think we lived in poverty and not in a mansion costing millions.

While fumbling through his blazer in our dance, I noticed a gun. The plastic card was now in between my fingers. I tucked it into my skirt when he wasn't looking.

Now its time for the real show, getting away from my predator. His gaze was very unsettling.

"Whats a beauty like you doing here?" He tugged me closer to him and whispered into my hair.

"Dancing with you." The safest answer. It earned me a light chuckle deep in his throat.

I swayed left and right mimicking dizziness. I tugged my heel across the floor and slipped right into his arms.

I let out a breathy fake laugh, "The champagne is kicking in. I'll find you when I'm stable enough."

He smiled, and let go of my arm.

I made sure to disappear between the multitude of gangsters. As far from his eye line as possible. I walked for ages before reaching the hallway where the door was.