Beautifully Broken

- 12 -

"Lo ejecutaste bellamente, Princesa."
(You executed that beautifully, princess)

My hands burn, I've been scrubbing them for thirty minutes. I can't tell if my hands are red from the irritation or my mother's blood.

I've dreamed of saying that for so long

"Then why don't I feel any better?" My tone still, unwavering.

The question didn't need an answer, I'm aware there isn't one.

Cole turns off the water, in a quick movement he sets me on the bathroom counter. He takes my hands into his. Eyes tracking at the red palms, his cold hands comforting the burning sensation in mine. His left hand goes to my thigh, ghosting over the stitching of a now old wound.

"Do you want to know my first kill?" He gets a small white box from the cabinet above him, "I was a ripe 7, in fact, it was my birthday," Cole pulls some sort of cream, applying it to my palms. 

"I had been training for 4 years by then. My mother gifted me my first gun. She said it was for hunting," Cole looks me in my eye, "She lied, I later found out it was to try to keep my innocence as long as she could. When I arrived downstairs to what I thought was to eat cake. A man, tied up, sat in a chair instead."

Cole stands straight, we were now at eye level to each other.

"My father and his men stood behind the chained male. My mother left the room. 'kill him son' were the only words that came out of his mouth. Do you want to know what I did next?" Cole's eyes never leave mine, "I shot him. In the head, just one bullet used. I love my father and believe in all of the lessons he taught me. I did and would do anything he asked of me. It comes with the lifestyle, Amor,"
(Love)

"I will always remember the eyes of that man, he died quick," Cole moves closer to me, his body stands between my legs, "But his eyes stayed alive for just a few seconds more." His hands reach my cheek, caressing it. 

"This is a lesson, Gatita, we do what has to be done. Don't let your emotions get in the way. You will kill and then you will move on. No one's life matters in the grand scheme of things,"
(Kitten)

"Do you really believe that?" I ask, taking his hand from my face into my hands, "I believe somethings matter," I hop out off of the counter, pulling the bathroom door open.

"Or someone."

***

I've been staring at these clothes for a while, I love the smell of them. This closet is bigger than my old room.

Knock

Knock

The door of the closet slides open, the sound of his leather shoes can be heard smacking against the wood floors.

"Yes?" I ask, hand still grazing the material of the clothes.

"Do you like them?" His voice is soft. I haven't spoken to him since the bathroom conversation two hours ago. Not during the car ride, not during dinner. Nothing.

"I love them," I turn towards him, "Did you pick it?"

He laughs nervously, it's kind of cute. 

The handsome devil is nervous

"No, no, I'm afraid I'm not too good at that sort of thing," He wipes his hands on his pants, which I can only assume was because of his sweat.

"That's not the real question, is it?"

I've only been around him for two days, yet I know too well.

"We have a party, tonight,"

"Let me guess," I turn back to the clothes, "Someone's birthday?" I chuckle.