Thank God for making a Hell.
♱
Peter Parker
There's an old saying, said to be careful for what you wish for.
Comes with a new question. What do you do when what you wished for, is someone so dangerous, yet you can't help but feel intrigued?
I run into my home and lock it. Then fall to the floor in . Everything feels overwhelmed and hard to digest. Shit, I must make the lists.
I grab my notebook and note it down.
3,3,2020
I found out,
1. (Y/n) is a killer. Professional as well. She didn't want to kill me, yet she was going to.
2. She knew all along I was stalking her. Was I not hidden well enough? Or was she just too good?
3. I stabbed her. Oh god. I didn't want to at all. But if she had killed me there will be no chance for us.
4. In a way. She mentioned the guy she killed was a rapist and a killer. So she is a vigilante. That is, disturbingly extraordinary.
I put my book down and slick my hair back. Catching my breath as I slowly get up to the bathroom. I look at myself, the injury from the back of my head makes a mess of blood all over me. I quickly get into the shower.
The warm water cleanses my blood away, and perhaps some of that dead guy's blood too.
(Y/n) is different, I knew that all along, the twist is that. She is not like other girls, she murders people.
I made sure I didn't hit an important area of her leg, so if I'm lucky enough she might come to talk to me tomorrow. And we can figure everything out. Starting with a cup of coffee.
What the fuck am I even thinking!? She kills people, and I stabbed her. She would kill me!
But what if she doesn't? What if I prove myself worth trusting... helpful... What If I can save her from sins?
So many what ifs.
_________
(Y/n)
"I can stitch myself," I tell Loki. He's been all quiet ever since he arrived.
Loki doesn't listen to me, he put a piece of cloth into my mouth and drags me closer to stitch my wound. I spit it out.
"I'm not a little kid anymore! I won't bite my tongue. And would you please be gentle?"
"You were reckless." He says. I bite my lips as he starts sticking needles into my skin.
"Shit happens," I say.
"If you wanna keep on doing it, you must be more careful. This was unacceptable (Y/n)." He looks at me, acting all scary. I want to just take those needles he's stitching my skin and poke it into his eye.
