𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐞 | ✔

ᴛ ʜ ɪ ʀ ᴛ ᴇ ᴇ ɴ

DEVI BHATT

My partner in crime slips a steel arm around my waist, solidifying my body against his. When I try to push away, he doesn't let me, causing me to scowl at him.

He just laughs, those dark eyes reflecting off little light from around the room.

He loves to take control of me because he's three years older. He never lets me away from him. I hate it. I hate him for it. But it feels wrong to hate my best friend. He loves me. I'm nothing without him. He got me my position and ironically I'm above him.

"Stop it," I mutter, annoyed but he just places a kiss on my head.

"You know I don't like it when you stray too far from me. You're only sixteen it would kill me to see something happen to you," he says, harshly.

""Let me do what we all came here for. I'm in the Russians' control room for a reason, you should be elsewhere."

"But you're still-"

"Small? A baby? A child? For goodness sake I know that you don't need to remind me," I resist the urge to roll my eyes. If I did, he wouldn't like it.

He frowns, "I'm only saying this because I love you, why don't you understand? I'm doing this all for you. You wanted something more than a boring life so I gave you it. I joined too just to make sure you were safe. I'm endangering my life for you," detest drips from his voice. "The least you could say is that you love me too."

That's the sad part though. I don't. I want to, but I just don't. "I don't want to lie to you," I plead for his understanding.

Suddenly, he withdraws coldly, then states in a clear cut tone, "Fine. When you're done acting like a fucking child, you can talk to me."

Guilt festers inside of me as I watch his blonde head leave the door. I almost run right up to him and beg for his forgiveness. He's everything to me. Maybe I do love him. Maybe I'm in denial. Maybe i'm just fucking confused because i'm just a mere teenager.

I would beg him to forgive my rudeness just so we can go back to his normal flirty self with me. Touching me up and everywhere. But he doesn't really care about apologies like that.

He's in a bad mood today. I shouldn't have led the mission today, he's going to mess it up because of what I did right now then I'm going to have to make it up to the boss.

Tears burn at my eyes and eventually roll down my cheeks as I tip my head in shame. The tears rolling down my face make me feel so weak. I can't handle anything bad to me and all I do is cry. People have it far worse. I should be grateful for what I have.

If my parents weren't as busy they wouldn't know what i was doing right now for money- extra money. That's why I'm lucky. I'm lucky because I have a bestfriend to watch over me and risk his life for me over and over again.

There's a crackle from my earpiece distracting me from the bully in my head. My head perks up in confusion, no-one should be contacting me over the intercoms right now.

The smooth voice of a russian travels down my ear making my fingers tingle and my breath hitch.

"Privet? ty kopiruyesh'?" (Hello? Do you copy?)

...

Water droplets spit all over my grinning face as the speed boat races across the water to the Phi Phi islands. It's hot, the sun is shining and the speed boat gives just enough breeze to sweep my sweat particles away.