𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘀; ❝ just because i'm a woman doesn't mean i still can't kick your fucking ass. ❞
in which a boy and a girl are
forced to come together in
order to defeat a common enemy
𝗢𝗥
where two heartless assassins
learn how to love again...
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ATHENA DOESN'T REMEMBER BLACKING OUT. SHE DOESN'T remember when she fell, when she was picked up, when she was driven to hospital (should she even call this place a hospital, though?) She had a drip in her arm and her head ached but the walls around her weren't white. In fact, they looked to be made of wood—some sort of timber—like those lining old cottage homes from fairytale books. The ones her mother used to read her when she was a child. The room she was in didn't even smell of antiseptic. She couldn't see any doctors (granted her eyes had only just adjusted to the faint light in the room and wasn't even aware of any presence around her, let alone in the room) so that led her to believe that she was most likely in some run down old place where they probably didn't even clean their tools. On initial inspection, she believed she was alone, almost going so far as to slipping out from under the sheets and making a quick get away through the door before anything—or anyone—could get in her way. But as she went to flick sheets and swing her legs to the side, she saw Jason in the corner chair, the scowl on his face held enough disapproval that Athena's hand dropped from the sheets.
"You look happy," she said, trying a smile. That motion alone sent a stinging to her brain. It wasn't painful, more like the annoyance of a headache. When Jason didn't return the gesture, she frowned. "What's up your ass this time?"
"What the hell's the matter with you?"
Athena could have laughed; laughing seemed like the only proper response to that question. "Sorry, what?"
"You should have killed him." Jason's eyes were cold. Even in the yellow light of the room, the emerald of his eyes were hard as stone. "Why didn't you kill him?" Another question. "Athena, he was right there."
She sat there blankly, staring at him in disbelief. "I..." but the words were lost in her mouth. She wanted to answer, she needed to answer but the fact was that she couldn't. Because she didn't why. Why had she not killed him? She had no affiliation to him, no remorse left in her to expend on another filthy drug breeder. She didn't feel guilty, didn't feel pain; nothing. She just knew she wanted to make him suffer. And killing him quickly would not give her the satisfaction. She wanted to watch him writher away in her hands. Watch him squirm as she peeled every inch of skin from his body with her beloved blade. But he would've been dead no matter what. She was doing him a favour, really. Prolonging his life—
"That's what's the matter with you." It was sharp, an almost piercing in her ear as Jason spat the words. She instantly straightened her back, subconsciously scolding herself as to why she thought that was the only necessary way to accept his anger. To steel herself? Or to brace for a hit. "You always—always— toy with your food. It's constantly a game to you. Well Athena, unlucky for you because you lost this game."
