Black Widow | 18+

27 | Emotions

Anton 

Rage, anger, betrayal, hatred. 

That was all I had been feeling for the last eighteen days. 

I didn't even know that Artemisia had been taken when I was in New York, but clearly the security guard that was no longer didn't either. 

His cluelessness made me so insanely rabid with rage that I used him as target practice, but with knives, and then I severed limbs before he bled out, and then I slit his throat. 

I had been doing a lot of killing recently, getting my own hands very dirty even by my standards, and I was aware that I couldn't keep on going in the way I was because officials wouldn't be able to stop turning their heads for much longer. 

But the anger was so strong, so fucking strong, I barely slept given the pulsing energy running through my veins at all times, and nothing was enough to get rid of it. 

The only antidote I had was her, but she had caused this in the first place. 

Artemisia had fucking run from me, and for some reason I had told myself that she wouldn't. I knew that Leandro had sent guys to get her, but I'd also heard that she'd run from them too. She'd run from both of us, and I wanted to hunt her down and ask her why. 

I knew why I thought she wouldn't run, and it was because I was feeling emotions and they made me lose my edge and my clarity, but this emotion did that most of all. 

Love. 

Artemisia was the first woman I had ever loved, and probably the last. This feeling, the pain that my constant anger was masking, it felt like it was never going to leave. I never wanted a life without her, and I thought about how my actions had caused her to go. 

It wasn't all me, the Italian had done eighty percent of the damage, I just couldn't bare the sight of her leaving, so I basically chained her to a wall. 

Yeah, keeping her in my home wasn't a wall, but people go stir-crazy, especially when there was no one else to talk to but me and I was working most of the time. 

In a way I hated her, but I hated myself much more for two reasons. The first being that I had done this to her and to myself, my actions caused this need for her to flee. The second being that I was only falling more in love with her, and it was ruining me. 

I wanted to find her, I knew that I could, when I felt anger like this I could do anything. But, I had a war going on, one that I wanted to win, and needed to win if I wanted to get her back, because I knew that one of us was going to die, and it had to be Leandro. 

So now here I was, back in New York, having just blown up two warehouses with some of Leandro's men inside. I knew the chaos was coming, a storm had been brewing for weeks and now the hurricanes were about to commence. 

I was going to bring this city to it's fucking knees if I had to, and I didn't care about the consequences, not if it meant I saw Artemisia one last time. 

-

Artemisia 

I was hurting, but I was healing in a way as well. 

I was feeling guilt, anger, shame, regret and then I was feeling nothing at all.

There were only two things which brought a smile to my face. The first being where I was now living, on a small island off the Greek mainland. It had tourists but mainly people on boat holidays, but there was nightlife and the town was beautiful and it was a community.