battles of love

ch. 11 ballgowns and mischief

Take your pick of the dress, I suggest the black ones, or the red one.

TW, almost self harm, gore kinda, and some description of blood.

It took me no more than an hour to find a shop, what took longer than an hour was finding one that I liked. There was an abundance of colors and sizes and skirts. But it was just all, overwhelming.

"Miss, I need you to drop your gut," the seamstress said to me.

"Uh, why?" I asked.

"To make sure you can move around in this dress. To make sure you can breathe by the end of the night," she said kindly.

"Oh," I felt so meh. Like I could take on anyone I wanted, but like I could meet my demise any second.

"You're lucky miss, the girl who ordered this dress was a mean sort, but she was the same size. Poor girl was forced to move away." Weird how someone can say another was mean but still feel sorry for them.

Emotions, are bwah.

I touched my dagger to a place in my palm, the lady didn't mind. She said it's good for girls to at least have some protection from the worlds problems.

The blade remained shiny as I slid it on my palm, not enough to draw blood though. No, instead I drew it back and fourth.

Gods, how could I even say that I missed my sister. Over the years I've dreaded meeting her again. Over the years I've wanted her dead and out of my life.

I've hated being in a world that she existed.

"FUCK," I say, as I see the blood on my dagger. The sting in my hands barely a buzz.

"Oh miss, I'll get a wet rag," the woman said.

"No need," I say, squeezing my fist shut, watching the blood swell and start to drip on my other hand. I wiped it off on my bag, it was already dirty anyways.

"Ok," she said, starting on sowing my dress again.

I watched as she finished some final stiches and demanded a price. I handed her a little more than needed and left before she could say anything, dress in a bag.

When I walked out, dagger strapped proudly at my side, I saw a shadowed figure. It moved stealthily behind me and into the shop.

I heard the door open and close, and by the gods I wanted to leave it.

But whatever sympathy I had in my heart made me turn back. My gut dropped at the feeling of him near, so something had to be wrong with him.

Clearly as an assassin I know when something is wrong. Right? I mean, my instincts have been wrong before, but they don't fail me when I really need them.

I opened the shop door and stepped inside to see the woman looking like she might cry in anger as she gave the man her money.

"Stop," I said, loud enough for them to both turn to me.

The man simply looked me up and down with his brown eyes and then turned back to the worker.

"Give me what you owe," he demanded.

"Haven't I given you more than enough," the woman answers in an almost yell. "You've taken my life savings, my money then and now, and now you demand more."

The man gave a chuckle, tilting his head back in a way to show mock amusement.

"Of course I do, for what you did," he said.

"What? Speak my mind," she asked?

"Yes, indeed no one asked for your opinion and you gave it anyway. For that you must pay," he said.

"That sounds like the most idiotic reason for someone to have a debt," I chimed in.

"The brat speaks," he said, waving his arms in the air like he actually cared.

"Loud and clearly," I said.

"Not loud enough for me to care," he said turning back to the lady.

"Sir, step away from her," I politely stated.

"Why should I," he asked, clearly annoyed at my antics?

"Because if you don't I'll owe you a hand," I said. Not my most cunning threat, but it implies something.

"More debtors, yay," he snidely remarked.

"Yes more debtors and less hands," I said as I pushed my dagger onto his unsuspecting hand.

He didn't expect it, because of the stealth I used. A stealth I learned how to use over the years.

He looked at it started and suddenly was thrashing around the room in an attept to keep me far from him. He ran left and right, and I merely followed with few steps.

An intimidation technique, one that makes the mind think you can't get away because of the little amount of steps it takes to get to you. Really amyone can get over it if they actually gage the distance. Most of the time people who use this tactic are farther than expected.

But if they are closer, expect hell.

The man gave me a look of annoyance and utter hatred. All for sticking up for a girl, who sexist could that be.

In reality it kinda wasn't, just him being a greedy bastard and choosing a woman for his target. But also he chose a woman, so. . . Am I really wrong?

I gave him a blank stare in return, not bothering to even glance at my still new cut. Gods, how could I have been so reckless with the knife, this cut gives me a disadvantage now. Not that it hurts very much, just that it'll be in the back of my mind the whole time.

I placed the dress on a cushion and turned back to him. The second I spent trying to place the dress apparently gave him confidence for he came charging at me.

I quickly avoided his advance and pulled my dagger again, reapeating to myself to not focus on my cut.

Not to think of the open flesh that had just barely begun to heal. He turned back to me and again tried runningat me. This time I lifted my dagger, if I caught him at the right time I could just gut him out. But that would leave a mess.

Before I could think of the answer he was upon me. He pulled his fist back, obviously he was going for the punch. I ducked as he swung, and dragged my dagger on his thigh. The dark blood rushed down his thigh and I grabbed his arm quickly. I pulled it to where it was across my chest and cut his side.

He kicked me off and held his side. When he looked at his hand it was stained with his blood.

I looked to the woman behind him, she cowered in fear and was backing up to the door.

Good. Maybe she wouldn't mind the killing if she didn't see it.

Am I willing to kill him? I mean he's an asshole, but is it worth being caught when I'm this close to my sister.

He rushed me again, slower this time. Why does nobody let me think? Everytime I get interrupted.

He came slowly and I focused my full attention to him. He gave a weak jump and stopped mid-air on his way to me just as I was about to puncture my blade into his already bleeding side.

"Let's not do that dearie," Robin said, letting the man drop to the floor with his shirt still in his hand.

Thank you all for waiting, I'm going to have a lot of time tomorrow to write so I will try to start another chapter, I might just skip to the ball after this guy. Also, I could have ✨spicy✨ scene for the ball, but if you don't want that U could just skip it