[One-shot] Blood of a Butterfly
Story's obviously inspired by T.A.B.O.O ♥ Enjoy~
He felt the searing heat of her body pressing against his and it was killing him. As the clouds outside the window cleared, a shaft of silver lit her face, revealing a small, challenging smile.
"I can do this on my own," she spoke, pressing the barrel of the gun against his neck to prove her point. It was warm and it didn't take much imagination on his part to figure out where she had kept it.
He grinned. "You need me, admit it." Suddenly reaching up, he grabbed her wrist and pushed the gun away. Despite him having the upper hand, she didn't seem all too surprised. She didn't even bother to fight back. Pushing her back against the wall of the narrow corridor, he leaned in. His nose caught her scent, turning him on.
The muted beat of music from the club below intermingled with the heartbeat in his ears as he pulled away to stare at her face. Her hair had fallen over one eye as she challenged his gaze with that same smile curving her lips. "If we don't get back, they'll start to get suspicious," she warned, reminding him of the job at hand. Her eyes trailed to the left, as if expecting someone to show up and ruin the moment. "Should I kiss you?" she bit her lower lip as if the question was more directed to herself than to him. His entire body was screaming the answer, but logic reminded him of the risk involved.
Silently staring at her for another long moment, he finally released her. "Fine. Let's get this over with." Turning, he headed towards the door. He stopped when he felt her fingers on his shoulder. She skirted around him and teasingly whispered, "Later," into his ear, sending a delicious tingling shiver up his spine. Before he could grab her, she twirled away and headed out.
This was their game: the teasing, leading each other on, yet neither completely closing the distance. Stuffing his hands into his pockets more out of frustration than anything else, he followed her back down into the noisy club. Bouncing bodies still moved in time to the music just as he had left them earlier, but he didn't pay them any attention. The only one he was fascinated with was her. Her body swayed as she joined the dancing crowd, smoothly blending in as if she had never left.
Taking his eyes off her for a second, he looked around for his mark. It wasn't hard to spot him: a bald man with a face that practically screamed 'Shoot me!' was surrounded by women, and guarded by two tough looking men.
Movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention. She stood there, pulling him to dance as if she was just picking him randomly from the crowd. Without resisting, he danced along with her, all the while keeping his eye on the target.
But she was distracting, and in a way that every fiber of his being couldn't resist. He was more than aware of the closeness of their swaying bodies and her hands pressing against his chest, almost possessively.
"Hey, get over here!" their moment was interrupted when one of the bodyguards grabbed her by the arm and pulled her away. Glaring past them, he caught sight of their mark with a sneer across his face as if he had just won a prize. He kept his cool; after all, he didn't want to cause a scene...yet.
He could only watch as the mark manhandled her: ugly hands with stubby fingers going to her waist, and down her hips as if branding her. Her face was one of disgust and frustration. No one understood her feelings better than him. He could feel his fingers literally itching to grab at the gun hidden under his shirt and shoot the bastard just to get this over with.
And he would have too if he didn't notice her eyes. Despite the situation, she didn't want him to act on impulse. Her eyes reminded him of who they were and what they were doing. Grimly, he stayed his hand.
"Got a problem, pal?" one of the bodyguards noticed he had been staring. A part of him wanted to deck the guy, knowing he had a weak knee, but the other part couldn't put her in danger. Raising his arms in surrender, he backed off.
Dropping himself onto a bar stool, he watched and waited. Several girls tried to gain his attention, but he didn't take his eyes off their mark's table. If there was even a single hair that was out of place, he'll have to start repainting this trashy place in red. "Anything to drink?" bartender asked, wiping down the counter. "Whatever he's having," he tilted his chin towards the ugly bastard, grinning like a cat who just stole cream.
"You look like you've got a fight to pick with him. What's the matter, he stole your girl?" the man behind the counter took a jab at him as he pulled out a clean glass. Bull's eye. He could only fake a scoff. "With that piece of work between his shoulders?" he retorted. "Yeah well, he didn't get far in life just with those good looks, my friend. Look at him, girls flock to him because they have a built-in money sensor," the bartender placed a napkin, followed by what looked like watered down tea on ice.
He ignored the glass; he needed to stay alert. "Haven't seen her before. The one in the blue. That must be your girl...well, was your girl, anyway," bartender laughed at his own joke. He faked ignorance, "Never seen her before in my life. Probably someone else's chick." But there was no fooling the man behind the counter. "Well, she's either yours or she's really interested in you. Either way, it's not gonna end up pretty, man."
Just as he was trying to figure out a good comeback, he heard several gunshots followed by many shrill, panicking screams. In a split second, people were shoving each other, scrambling to get to the exit. A girl, his girl, he reminded himself, was standing there and holding onto a smoking gun. Unlike most first-time shooters, she wasn't shaking or gripping tightly onto the handle. What he saw was colder, more indifferent: marks of a pro.
They stood in the empty bar now with three dead bodies between them. "Took you long enough," he stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Next time, you're wearing the tight dress and have sleezeballs feel you up," she bent down to check their now dead mark's inner jacket pocket. Pulling out his cell, she tossed it over to him. Without a word, he knew what he had to do. Hitting redial, he pressed the device to his ear.
"It's over. We win," was all he said. As if a switch was hit, people started coming out of back rooms and behind counters, removing earpieces and started to clean up the mess. "Good job, you two. I was right to make you guys partners, huh?" their chief appeared out of nowhere, giving them hearty pats on the shoulders.
"I still think it's a bit much just to train one rookie," she wasn't at all happy with the situation, given that it was only an exercise to test out her new partner. "Oh come on, lighten up. You were a rookie once too, remember? Besides, it was just as tense as an actual situation so you should be happy he was playing cool. Alright, good job. Real deal starts on Monday. Great job everybody!" with that, the chief finally left.
"Simulation test," he leaned against the bar counter, feeling both tired and somehow manipulated too. "I did warn you," she leaned beside him. "Do you suppose they figured out about..earlier?" he asked indirectly, partially because he was aware that the others might still be listening.
He saw that same familiar teasing smile playing on her lips. "That could all be part of the test, you know," she challenged him with those eyes. Searching her face for any tell, his face finally broke into a relieved grin. "You're free to test me anytime then."
She laughed, "Intimate relations between partners is considered taboo around here."
"As if breaking rules is something uncommon for you. Besides, there's no use resisting me," he leaned in and said in a low voice into her ear, making her shiver. He pulled away, daring her to make the next move.
Pulling him down, she neared his lips and whispered, "Great to have you...partner," before releasing him and walking off.
Feeling his face break into a grin, he hurried to catch up with his girl.
---
Hm...not the best one I've written, I suppose? Muse chose to inspire me at 3am, then decided to leave for 3 weeks only to come back and hit me again with inspiration at 1am. Also, I have no idea where the title and cut text came from, so yeah...but had fun writing this one~ <3
He felt the searing heat of her body pressing against his and it was killing him. As the clouds outside the window cleared, a shaft of silver lit her face, revealing a small, challenging smile.
"I can do this on my own," she spoke, pressing the barrel of the gun against his neck to prove her point. It was warm and it didn't take much imagination on his part to figure out where she had kept it.
He grinned. "You need me, admit it." Suddenly reaching up, he grabbed her wrist and pushed the gun away. Despite him having the upper hand, she didn't seem all too surprised. She didn't even bother to fight back. Pushing her back against the wall of the narrow corridor, he leaned in. His nose caught her scent, turning him on.
The muted beat of music from the club below intermingled with the heartbeat in his ears as he pulled away to stare at her face. Her hair had fallen over one eye as she challenged his gaze with that same smile curving her lips. "If we don't get back, they'll start to get suspicious," she warned, reminding him of the job at hand. Her eyes trailed to the left, as if expecting someone to show up and ruin the moment. "Should I kiss you?" she bit her lower lip as if the question was more directed to herself than to him. His entire body was screaming the answer, but logic reminded him of the risk involved.
Silently staring at her for another long moment, he finally released her. "Fine. Let's get this over with." Turning, he headed towards the door. He stopped when he felt her fingers on his shoulder. She skirted around him and teasingly whispered, "Later," into his ear, sending a delicious tingling shiver up his spine. Before he could grab her, she twirled away and headed out.
This was their game: the teasing, leading each other on, yet neither completely closing the distance. Stuffing his hands into his pockets more out of frustration than anything else, he followed her back down into the noisy club. Bouncing bodies still moved in time to the music just as he had left them earlier, but he didn't pay them any attention. The only one he was fascinated with was her. Her body swayed as she joined the dancing crowd, smoothly blending in as if she had never left.
Taking his eyes off her for a second, he looked around for his mark. It wasn't hard to spot him: a bald man with a face that practically screamed 'Shoot me!' was surrounded by women, and guarded by two tough looking men.
Movement from the corner of his eye caught his attention. She stood there, pulling him to dance as if she was just picking him randomly from the crowd. Without resisting, he danced along with her, all the while keeping his eye on the target.
But she was distracting, and in a way that every fiber of his being couldn't resist. He was more than aware of the closeness of their swaying bodies and her hands pressing against his chest, almost possessively.
"Hey, get over here!" their moment was interrupted when one of the bodyguards grabbed her by the arm and pulled her away. Glaring past them, he caught sight of their mark with a sneer across his face as if he had just won a prize. He kept his cool; after all, he didn't want to cause a scene...yet.
He could only watch as the mark manhandled her: ugly hands with stubby fingers going to her waist, and down her hips as if branding her. Her face was one of disgust and frustration. No one understood her feelings better than him. He could feel his fingers literally itching to grab at the gun hidden under his shirt and shoot the bastard just to get this over with.
And he would have too if he didn't notice her eyes. Despite the situation, she didn't want him to act on impulse. Her eyes reminded him of who they were and what they were doing. Grimly, he stayed his hand.
"Got a problem, pal?" one of the bodyguards noticed he had been staring. A part of him wanted to deck the guy, knowing he had a weak knee, but the other part couldn't put her in danger. Raising his arms in surrender, he backed off.
Dropping himself onto a bar stool, he watched and waited. Several girls tried to gain his attention, but he didn't take his eyes off their mark's table. If there was even a single hair that was out of place, he'll have to start repainting this trashy place in red. "Anything to drink?" bartender asked, wiping down the counter. "Whatever he's having," he tilted his chin towards the ugly bastard, grinning like a cat who just stole cream.
"You look like you've got a fight to pick with him. What's the matter, he stole your girl?" the man behind the counter took a jab at him as he pulled out a clean glass. Bull's eye. He could only fake a scoff. "With that piece of work between his shoulders?" he retorted. "Yeah well, he didn't get far in life just with those good looks, my friend. Look at him, girls flock to him because they have a built-in money sensor," the bartender placed a napkin, followed by what looked like watered down tea on ice.
He ignored the glass; he needed to stay alert. "Haven't seen her before. The one in the blue. That must be your girl...well, was your girl, anyway," bartender laughed at his own joke. He faked ignorance, "Never seen her before in my life. Probably someone else's chick." But there was no fooling the man behind the counter. "Well, she's either yours or she's really interested in you. Either way, it's not gonna end up pretty, man."
Just as he was trying to figure out a good comeback, he heard several gunshots followed by many shrill, panicking screams. In a split second, people were shoving each other, scrambling to get to the exit. A girl, his girl, he reminded himself, was standing there and holding onto a smoking gun. Unlike most first-time shooters, she wasn't shaking or gripping tightly onto the handle. What he saw was colder, more indifferent: marks of a pro.
They stood in the empty bar now with three dead bodies between them. "Took you long enough," he stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Next time, you're wearing the tight dress and have sleezeballs feel you up," she bent down to check their now dead mark's inner jacket pocket. Pulling out his cell, she tossed it over to him. Without a word, he knew what he had to do. Hitting redial, he pressed the device to his ear.
"It's over. We win," was all he said. As if a switch was hit, people started coming out of back rooms and behind counters, removing earpieces and started to clean up the mess. "Good job, you two. I was right to make you guys partners, huh?" their chief appeared out of nowhere, giving them hearty pats on the shoulders.
"I still think it's a bit much just to train one rookie," she wasn't at all happy with the situation, given that it was only an exercise to test out her new partner. "Oh come on, lighten up. You were a rookie once too, remember? Besides, it was just as tense as an actual situation so you should be happy he was playing cool. Alright, good job. Real deal starts on Monday. Great job everybody!" with that, the chief finally left.
"Simulation test," he leaned against the bar counter, feeling both tired and somehow manipulated too. "I did warn you," she leaned beside him. "Do you suppose they figured out about..earlier?" he asked indirectly, partially because he was aware that the others might still be listening.
He saw that same familiar teasing smile playing on her lips. "That could all be part of the test, you know," she challenged him with those eyes. Searching her face for any tell, his face finally broke into a relieved grin. "You're free to test me anytime then."
She laughed, "Intimate relations between partners is considered taboo around here."
"As if breaking rules is something uncommon for you. Besides, there's no use resisting me," he leaned in and said in a low voice into her ear, making her shiver. He pulled away, daring her to make the next move.
Pulling him down, she neared his lips and whispered, "Great to have you...partner," before releasing him and walking off.
Feeling his face break into a grin, he hurried to catch up with his girl.
---
Hm...not the best one I've written, I suppose? Muse chose to inspire me at 3am, then decided to leave for 3 weeks only to come back and hit me again with inspiration at 1am. Also, I have no idea where the title and cut text came from, so yeah...but had fun writing this one~ <3