ANGEL
He infuriated me ever since our first encounter.
I admired his looks and patience he had while holding me hostage. But as the months followed up, our hate towards one another bloomed.
So much, that the ashes inside of me bloomed as well.
LUK...
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I haven't slept a blink.
The adrenaline, antecipation and anxiety of finally going to that motherfucker house, destroy everything he knows, kill everyone he trusts in... it makes adrenaline rush through my veins.
My leg bobs up and down as the plane takes off, most of us all inside Lukas private jet, others had to take off in a helicopter with the heavier guns.
Richard and Rafa are with eyes on the IPad screen where there's live video of the surroundings of Dimitri's location.
So far all seems calm and that he has no clue we're going to attack soon.
"You should sleep." Lukas whispers, his hand on my knee, stopping my leg. "I'm good."
"You spent the whole night turning and huffing around. Lay on the couch." He nods his chin to the empty couch that seems inviting.
Sighing, I stand up, put the black hood over my head and lay down, my eyes looking up at Lukas who stands up.
He lifts my head before sitting down and putting it on his lap. "Blanket?"
"Nope." I say, my voice cracked from the shock of the gesture.
May seem stupid but I've never experienced this before.
Every new thing leaves me astonished in the first minutes before my brain processes it fully.
My knees are curled against my chest, my hand below my cheek as his fingers rake through my hair, leaving my eyelids heavy.
"Angel?" I hum, as the deep whisper fills my ears.
"Wake up." A warm hand lands above my shoulder, and slowly opening my eyes I'm faced with the plane dark, only a line of white leds illuminating the space, all the man knocked out.
Glancing up, I see Lukas look down at me.
Hasn't he slept?
"What?" I whisper, rubbing my eyes, and sitting up. "Are you hungry?"
Did he really woke me up to ask if I wanted food?
Oh...
My eyes catch the bulge on his pants and I stand up, grabbing his hand.
Lukas frowns but trails behind me. The last door at the end of the plane is where they keep their guns and tactical clothing, and no one enters without the keys.
Keys that he has in his pants pocket, which I remove.
Silently, I open the door, ignoring his question of what the heck am I doing, and close it behind us, putting the key on a metallic shelve.
Fisting his t-shirt, I push him back against the shelves full of bags with guns, kissing him fiercely.
Lukas groans, making me tug on his hair. "Be quiet." I mutter between kisses.
