𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

𝐀 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 - 𝐏𝐭. 𝟏

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐗 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

You leaned against the cold alley wall, breathing hard. Puffs of white vapor escaped your mouth into the cold night air. You tried to loosen the neck of your black turtleneck, regretting your choice of clothing for tonight's mission, as it was a little too restricting. Too bad your favorite outfit was among the pile of unwashed clothing in a corner of your apartment.

Suddenly, you felt a dull pain radiate down to your thighs, causing you to frown. You had an inkling of what that meant.

"Shit. I've run out of pads."

Swearing under your breath, you pushed yourself off the wall and walked out of the alleyway. The streets were mostly empty, except for the occasional car or two cruising by and the stray cats scavenging for food in the dumpsters.

You remembered seeing a 24-hour store in two streets over and headed in the direction you seemed to have seen it. Despite your profession, you were a little directionally challenged, which was why you spent most of your time poring over maps than anything else when you prepared for a mission. Your boss, being the man he was, took every chance to make fun of you for that fact.

Thankfully, your intuition turned out to be right. After purchasing a pack of pads and a plate of ready-made pizza, you made your long way back home.

Sitting down at the table, you stared vacantly at the plate of pizza, wondering when you last had a proper, homemade meal. Boss was particularly adamant about you eating more nutritious foods and had even added a bonus to your salary to encourage you to eat healthier, but you simply shrugged it off. He had even attempted to cook something for you, but suffice to say, he was awful at it, and a single glare from you had ended any further desires he had harbored for cooking in the future.

Well, what was the point anyway? You didn't have a speck of desire to live a long life. Why would you? You had no family or friends to speak of. Well, there was your boss... but he was just that. You simply did what you did because you were good at it. At least that's what he had always said.

When you had first taken the job, you were desperate. No family, no money, and nowhere to go. The man who'd found you in the streets brought you back with him and consequently, you became part of his crime syndicate. You despised what you did, but at least it provided you with a warm meal to fill your stomach with. Now you had just become numb, always on autopilot, except for those rare moments when everything inside you burst out with the force of a geyser and left you in a tearful stupor for a few hours.

Of course you hated it. You never grew used to the terrible stench of blood that seemed to follow you everywhere. You grew to hate the color red.

A sudden shrill ringtone jolted you out of your rumination. Sighing, you squinted your eyes at the bright blue screen, already knowing the caller's identity.