𝙉𝙖𝙩𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙤𝙨.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀”𝐓𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐮𝐩𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐞... ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄.” ⠀ ⠀ ⠀

She senses Matthew — somewhere.

She’s flipping, jumping, and dancing throughout the night. It takes her mind off of her troubles.

She’s sipping tea on her porch. Don’t bother her.

Absolutely it is 𝒏𝒐𝒕.

𝙀𝙡𝙚𝙠𝙩𝙧𝙖 & 𝙈𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙬 -- What a tragic love story.

Oh, get a grip. She’s not getting under his 𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒏. He simply doesn’t like — no, doesn’t want to 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦 it when he’s 𝒘𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈. That’s his problem, not hers. The woman crossed her arms. “Nothing. I don’t want anything from you anymore.”

Lying to himself now, is he? A shame. His pride is beginning to get to him. She isn’t interested in rubbing in 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 — certainly not his 𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒆. Perhaps he should reevaluate.

She scribbled out the ‘n’t’ so that now it could read: “Do kill people.”

Was Matthew 𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 in the mood for her games? That is, other than 𝒂𝒍𝒍 of the other times he decided to walk home with the assassin. She wasn’t flaunting - she was simply ending her day off with a sadist on the floor.

No, not that. 𝑯𝒊𝒎. 𝑯𝒆'𝒔 off. Covering the odor of blood? That’s new. She’s unsure how to... feel.

Isn’t it? Always a pleasure to see him. He 𝒔𝒎𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒔 quite different, however.

As always, he’s a second too late. She was cleaning off both of her crimson-colored sai.

She 𝒅𝒊𝒅 always wear her most fragrant perfume when she wanted him to notice.

𝑸𝒖𝒊𝒆𝒕 — what may make one insane, makes the other empowered. 𝑫𝒂𝒓𝒌𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔 — what one may be afraid of, the other may live in it.

She’s off making her sai bloody. Do not bother her. Or do— but nothing guarantees you live.

She is a deathly mysterious and frightening persona hidden behind a deathly angelic, Grecian face. Her history is darkened — as is the future she chooses to lead herself into. She regrets nothing.

Matt what—