Ivory Fernández and Kylian De Luca.
She's the top assassin.
He's the top mafia leader.
They both hate and tried to kill each other multiple times so what will happen when they need to take down a common enemy and they've agreed to do it together...
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I take off my shirt. Wincing, I pour alcohol on my wound. I may or may not have gotten into a fight. Not my fucking fault though.
"How bout I fuck your partner. Ivory, is it?"
He said that and expected me not to break his nose, give him a black eye, and more that I shouldn't say. I mean, come on.
I wince again and rest my head in my hands. I really need to get some sleep.
Elio thought it was crazy once I told him how much sleep I was getting. Thought it was obvious because of my sleepy eyes.
He gave me some pills but I haven't used them. I'm just waiting for the right time. He's always been there for me, it surprises me how he hasn't left yet. Or died.
He's been to every mission with me. Him not being six foot under the ground is surprising but I'm glad.
Glancing down at my wound, I place a plaster over it. It does sting but it was worth it.
The doors burst open. "Hola, mother fucker," a familiar voice says but I don't bother lifting my head.
"Fuck off, Ivory," I reply bluntly. I think now is the perfect time to use those pills.
I'm tired and although I beat someone up for disrespecting her, I can't be bothered with her sarcasm bullshit.
"Ivory?" she almost laughs. "What?" I grumble, raising my head to finally meet her eyes.
"Nothing," she dismisses. She takes in my features as I lean back on the chair. "Have you gotten any sleep?"
"What is it to you?" I ask. "Kylian," she says seriously, "when's the last time you've slept."
"No idea," I shrug. Ignoring the confused look on her face, I stand up.
"Holy fuck," her eyes widen at the wound. "Don't tell me you lost."
"Really, Rory?" I scoff, running my hand through my hair. I obviously didn't lose.
"You're bleeding," she says, glancing at my forehead.
"Woah, thanks for stating the obvious," I roll my eyes and try to walk past her but she stops me.
"It could get infected," she carries on. "Since when did you have a degree in medicine?" I ask jokingly.
She sits on my desk, "It's common sense, idiot." I notice her slight smile, although she tries to hide it.
Why doesn't she smile more? It's nice... or whatever.
