𝐇𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐱 | 𝟣𝟪+

|40| 𝒜 𝓂ℴ𝓂ℯ𝓃𝓉 ℴ𝒻 𝓅ℯ𝒶𝒸ℯ

I'm impressed, she really shot someone.
My wife shot one of my men.

But in some ways I'm also disappointed,
she shot him in the chest
instead of the head, leaving him alive.

She also escaped at nine pm, I was busy
in my office and I thought she would
stay because she and Louis were going
to watch another ridiculous movie

While I was signing my name on
another contract, Louis stomps
into my office, without a knock,
he did offer a high-pitched cry
letting me know he was coming in;

Anyways he told me that she
never went to him. Not that
I can blame her, he's an idiot.

One of the many things I love about
Marceline is that she's a creature
of habit, rarely breaking her patterns.

So naturally, I found her in a bar,
drunk off her mind,
entertaining anyone who gives her
the smallest glance.

I have people around this whole
country, reporting to me
about people I've flagged
or anyone that is suspicious.

Everyone knows to keep her out of the airports. Most places she can go in, but
no place that can help her leave Russia.

I see her laying on a sofa with a glass
in her hand—surrounded by men
and women, who all want one thing,
a small fraction of her attention,

They don't seem to care if it's only
one word they still want it, the world-known escape artist,
the one everyone in the mafia wants,

Everyone in this bar is laughing around
her while she jokes about her life in a sarcastic tone, No one else realizes that
when she insults herself she means it,

But she covers it with laughter,
she can blame the tears that come
out of her eyes on happiness,
but I know it isn't anything like that.

I slowly walk up to the emerald green
sofa and softly say her name
"Marceline" she slightly turns her head
and a larger smile appears on her
beautiful face, I smile too, I can't help it.

She turns her head back and starts laughing, she lifts one leg
up and then drops it on the ground,
the other leg does the same
thing just seconds behind the other

Some might think she doesn't care at
all, but she does, this is merely
a performance she is putting on for her
fan base, I actually feel bad for her.

She slams her glass on the ground and
walks past me as it shatters,
little shards of the green glass scatter
across the dark wood floor.

That was unnecessary but it did get everyone's attention;

that is what she wanted.