"(y/n), don't do this!" He holds his hands in front of him and starts backing away. He's scared, just like he should be. "Join me, please?" He pleads, his voice honest and sincere.
"Tempting, but it's a no." I simply reply, before shooting him squar...
Kai is staring back at me. He knows he's handsome. He uses it to his advantage constantly (Is it bad that I like that about him?). Except on me, of course. What a good boy, my Kai. I miss him so much. I miss how easy it was, being his. But looking at him now, I can't believe we used to be in love. Well, he still is, I'm the one who stopped. Why did I stop loving him, though? He's a nice guy: sweet, caring, good looking, and a gentleman. If one of us were ever to let go first, he should be the one to do so. I'm pretty, I know that, but I'm also a murderer with blood stained hands that will never be the same again—and he's none of that. He can walk away from me whenever he wants and no one will blame him because they all know—I know—that he's clean.
"Kai," I say, standing up, then stumble over to the couch and throw myself across it.
As soon as I arrived at the institute, Kai took me to Jisoo's room where she helped me out of my ruined clothes and got me a pair of clean jeans and a blouse (which were both hers), just in case there'sa chance we might run into Jimin on the way to the infirmary, because we all know he'd freak out of his mind if he saw me in those bloody bandages. And a while ago, Dr. Shin stitched me up all nice back in Rosé's apartment, then Kai came and brought me home and actually let me take something. They never let me take anything. It'll mess with my abilities, they say. You'll take too many again, they don't say.
"Yeah?" Kai asks, pushing himself away from the doorframe and walking over. I don't reply until he lifts my legs off the sofa, sits down, then puts them across his lap. First off, I shouldn't let him touch me. I usually don't, because Rosé said that he's a lair and that he's very bad influence for me, and I promised her so long ago. But then again, I broke that promise in Europe, and I wanted to break it completely, but I learned better.
But Rosé.
My dear, Rosé.
Rosé wanted me to kill Jin.
She wanted me to close those beautiful black marbles and put those long, soft, sure fingers under the ground. How could she want him dead? Did she want me to do it? How could she set me up for that?
I guess I don't know her at all. All these years, all these things I've done, all these things I've become too keep her happy, to keep hey safe. I don't know her. Rosé, sister, my own blood and flesh, betrayed me . . .
"I would like some more drugs, please." I finally say.
"I think no."
"Why not? Come on. I earned it. Besides, I'm about to start my period, and you know how PMSsing messes with everything." I beam at him, but he doesn't so much as squirm.
"I seem to recall CL saying you were actually at your best then—you just couldn't focus your intuition on what we wanted you to do, and only on what you wanted to do."
"Yes, well, I seem to recall CL being dead."
"Iris," He says, and it's like a sigh. "Listen," He says, and he's rubbing my feet. His hands engulf them—he's tall, so tall, and stronger than me by far. Right now he could take me in a fight, I think. Maybe not. I have many things with me right now that I can use to my advantage. He's still in love with me. I'm a girl, and a petite one at that. And most of all, I'm badly hurt.
His fingers linger above my je m'en fous tattoo which I got during our one week stay in France during a mission from last year. It stands for "I do not care" in French, and it's, hands down, one of my favorite tattoos of all time.
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