Blood Oath (Ruby Rose/Ares fan fic)

Thirty-one

"We're about to land in Zagreb," the flight attendant whispers kindly to me looking at Ares out of the corner of her eye... she seems hesitant for a moment but she decides to go back to the cockpit finally. I don't blame her, the Assassin's reputation is well-known and I wouldn't like to wake her up either, above all when she's sound asleep: I'd get a bullet in my face most likely. Luckily, I'm closer to her than the flight attendant and I'll think I could survive the experience if I just shake her shoulder slightly without sudden movements.

"Andreja... Andy..." I whisper in her ear leaning forward. She opens her eyes immediately but seems startled like she doesn't know where she's for a second. "We're about to land."

My bodyguard nods holding back a yawn and rubs her eyes with her knuckles before running her fingers through her hair and putting her seat forward, fastening her belt. The jet begins its descend while she shakes her head slightly trying to clear her mind. Ares seems so tired... she's been sleeping for 1 1/2 hours, from the moment we took off till now. We got up very early in the morning in order to arrive to Milan's airport avoiding the traffic jam and we barely had time to finish our breakfast quickly before we left. But the truth is that the Assassin is used to getting up early in the morning and she didn't seem to be suffering from jet lag when we arrived to Rome. I don't know what's wrong with her today...

"Andy, are you okay?" She looks at me frowning like she doesn't understand me. "You seem exhausted, I wasn't expecting you to sleep during the flight to be honest. I thought you'd be... I don't know... nervous because you're coming back home after long years." Ares shakes her head and taps with her hands on her pockets but she doesn't find her device so she points at my phone and moves her thumbs. I hand it to her with an open text box.

I haven't slept the last couple of nights. I was really worried about you since every time you turned in bed, you flinched and whined even when you were sound asleep so I hugged you tight in order to block your movements and you could finally rest.

I mutter a 'thank you' when I read her text because the truth is that my words are stuck in my throat along with a lump and the tears that are threatening with running down my cheeks. The Assassin nods with a faint smile and closes her eyes again so I take advantage from the fact that she can't see me to take a screenshot... I'm going to save this text for the rest of my life: the written evidence that Andreja cares about me. "All right, okay, I give up..." My conscience whispers in my head. "I can't fight against a text like that, not even gathering all my negativity. You can daydream about your future together all that you want from now on. I'm going to shut the fuck up." I read the text again and again before shoving my phone in my coat's pocket, I know that I'm smiling like a lovesick fool but I can't help it.

The plane shakes slightly when the tyres touch the ground and Ares opens her eyes. She unfastens her seat belt and stands up, stretching her arms above her head so I'm able to see her gun and two knife sheaths on her hip before she puts on her jacket. She insists on carrying my bag despite I'm feeling better thanks to her massages and the painkillers, well... I don't think I could dance salsa right now but I can walk without help and even leave a chair without wincing.

There's a Continental Hotel in Zagreb, of course, as it happens in every European capital. It's not that big but it offers the usual services in exchange of your gold coin, immunity included. However, the Assassin has decided that we're going to stay at the Esplanade, a very luxurious and comfortable hotel built in 1925: she doesn't want anyone from the underworld knowing where we're and telling Aidan Finn then. After 20 minutes driving in a car that the hotel sent to the airport, the beautiful white building shows up finally at the end of an avenue. The black and white marble lobby is amazing and it still has the golden brass revolving door: I can't help smiling... I absolutely love these kinds of doors but I don't dare to spin the wings too fast because Ares is still looking exhausted and doesn't seem to be in the mood for jokes. There're several wood tables instead of a single reception desk, with beautiful armchairs upholstered in golden silk fabric where a young girl asks us to sit down while she checks our reservation in her computer. The Assassin whispers something in Croatian, they're barely a couple of words, and the girl nods typing fast; I look at her shocked: this is the first time I hear her speaking with someone other than me.