Case 420 /finished BxB/

9. predictable

I took a shower and slowly feel my life coming back. Agh, I really wont drink again. I put on the outfit that Ash had laid out.

It smelled so much like him that I'm almost convinced he put his perfume on it when I wasn't looking.

I didn't bring anything with me because I wasn't planning on having a sleepover. Meaning I had to use his deodorant and his perfume and had to use his toothpaste. Obviously I didn't use his toothbrush. Even the thought of it makes me cringe.

I get out of the shower and walk into the living room. Ash is sitting at the small 2 person's table eating some cereal. He looks me up and down and gives me a small smile.

"You look good in my clothes" he says and I roll my eyes. The t-shirt feels way too tight on my skin and the sweatpants are also a size too small showing off a little too much. The gray color definitely isnt helping the situation.

"I hope it won't happen again" I mumbled under my breath. And he scoffs. "It shows off your muscles" he says still looking at my body. I hate being looked at.

"I'll leave now" I say and run my hands through my wet hair hoping it will look less horrible than it is.

"You can get some breakfast if you want" Ash says and I shake my head. My stomach rumbles, I'm being betrayed by my own body.

Usually, I skip breakfast because the thought of it makes me nauseous. Maybe it's the alcohol that's causing this hunger.

"Fine" I groan knowing I barely have anything in my fridge. I sit down at the small table and make a bowl of cereal for myself.

I don't say anything and stay as quiet to avoid any confrontation.

"Aspen" Ash says to me and I look up. "Yeah?" I ask him and he looks at me with intriguing eyes. "You don't have any weapons on you right now, right?" He asks me and I shake my head.

I don't know why I am not lying to him right now knowing he is someone who could kill me. I just have the small blade hiding in his socks.

"So technically I could kill you right now?" He asks and I shrug my shoulders and take an other spoonful of cereal. "Why do you ask?" I ask him and he shrugs his shoulders mirroring my actions.

"Do you want to kill me?" I ask him and he thinks taking it as an actually possibility. "Would you kill me?" He asks me. "You're not my case anymore" I say simply putting it.

Case 420 will be taken over by my college tomorrow. The stupid spotter better give him a respectful death or I will come and hunt him down. I hate those types of people the most. Their cocky personality to match their actions make it even worse.

"So you wouldn't kill me at all?" He asks me "Only if you try to kill me first" I say not showing any emotions. "Mhm" he says with a smile. He stands up and puts his plate in the sink.

"I have to kill you" he says his smile twitching and fading. "I have to" he says again hoping that maybe the words he is repeating arent true.

My eyes follow him watching his every move. He rests against the kitchen counter just looking at me.

He shots me a grin and I knew what was coming. That same stupid grin that he gives his victims. That same fucking grin he shots me when he figured out my plans.

I take the last bite of the cereal and wait for him to do whatever it is he has planned. I stand up and my eyes won't stop looking at him.

He stares right into my eyes looking through everything. He doesn't have a single emotion coating his face. I hate it.

I put my plate in the sink and he stands right behind me. He does it as quietly as possible but I heard it. All the hairs on my body stand up and every single alarm inside my body is screaming 'Get out of here'.

I quickly turn around and I was right. I should get out of here. His hand is at the height of my head holding a knife. His knife.

My hand is wrapped around his wrist so tight that it cuts the blood flow off ever so slightly. I stare at him with a blank expression.

When I went through my training process they told me to never show emotions. To not feel any emotions. It makes the job easier type of bullshit.

I stare at him and he doesn't put any force to get out of my grip. He just stares at me with the fucked up grin that I wish I could wipe right off.

I Hate his brown eyes staring at me holding no depth in it. No emotions no nothing. I hate his stupid smile that's making me feel uneasy. It doesn't look like it belongs on his face and doesn't match his eyes at this moment. I hate his brown hair ever so perfectly. I hate his dimple on the right side of his face. I hate his mole under his eye and I hate his soft freckles.

I hate everything about him.

I let my grip go. "Kill me" I say unphased. I take a deep breath that just comes out shaky. He looks at me and I could spot a slight hint of confusion on his face.

"Kill me" I say louder than before not breaking the eye contact between us. The smile on his face disappeared.

He puts the knife down on the kitchen counter next to my hand. I could kill him right now but decide against it.

I walk away from him taking my clothes with me. I rush out of the apartment as fast as I can holding back every emotion I have in me.

Don't show anyone any emotion. I repeat to myself for the thousands time. I rush through the hallways and over the cold street. I should've brought a jacket with me but I don't want to see him again.

I won't see him again.

I forgot how dangerous he is and how fucked i am for allowing him to be so close. I shouldn't have let anyone close to me let alone a fucking killer.

He is wanted for a reason and I forgot it. I am the one to blame. I should've known it wasn't going to be some normal friendship. I should've known it.

I ran the whole way home. When I finally reach my apartment I feel out of breath. I want to run more but I know I'm too fucking tired to do so.

I quickly go up the stairs almost slipping on my way but thankfully not falling. I go into the door and immediately lock it behind me.

I want to stay in here forever. Alone, I am better off alone anyway. I always have been. I should've followed the protocol and not allowed anyone in.

I should've known it, right? Right? I ask myself while I'm unable to breathe. I feel like I'm going to black out and the whole room is spinning.

The same overbearing feeling is rushing back to me all at once taking me under. The feeling of pure dread.

My troat feels like it's locked up and I can hear my heart racing louder than ever. Tears stream down my face but I wipe them away as quickly as I can. I don't want to show any emotions.

I hate this part of me. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I try getting up from the floor but all I see are stars. I clutch my heart and hope it will pass over soon.

Please let it pass over soon.

I dig my fingernails in my arm to distract myself from the pain. The feeling slowly starts to fade away but my breath is still staggering and I feel like absolute death.

I look at my arm coated in a shade of red. I dug my nails in so hard that it bleeds. It will turn into a scar just like the other scars on my body.

Because of this job, I have a shit ton of scars on my skin. I hate them but I stopped hiding them.

My back is full of the bigger ones and my chest has matching ones. My arms are full of smaller ones and a couple I did myself. My legs aren't full but still have a few on.

Most are from training sessions or when someone thought it was funny to pick on me or when I did close combat while working.

My boss assured me they look cool but even if I leave this job and this place forever I still have the reminders of them carved into my body. Forever.