𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐞 | ✔

ᴛʜɪʀᴛʏ

I need to stop ending chapters on depressing notes, I hath realised. I just love toying with emotions... maybe irl too-only to those who hurt me, if ur reading this and know u irl ur not one of these.

Without further adieu, here is the next chapter...

༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ

DEVI BHATT

"Oh my god, malyshka what happened?" there's a drunken lilt to her voice making me smile. She runs a smooth hand down my frazzled hair immediately soothing the knots in my back.

"A lot," I say. "But hey, I electrocuted someone."

Sasha freezes before pulling away and checking my face and looking down at my body. She meets my eyes again."Guys,"  she calls out wearily. "I think we've broken her."

I crack a smile. "Stop it," I push her arm. "You're making me sound crazy, when you're the crazy assassin."

She rolls her eyes. "No malyshka, I'm just drunk."

"Well maybe I should electrocute you, that might sober you up."

"Devi," she slaps my arm harshly. Why did I say that again?

"I..." I croak, "I did not mean that. I'm not even sure why I said that, I'm really sorry." I'm apologising a lot, does that make me toxic?

"It's okay, don't worry, why are you all scratched up?" she asks concerned, clutching my face. "You have dots of blood all over you, and something tells me it's not just yours."

"Why isn't Grisha coming out?" Demyan asks behind Sasha.

"Is he alright?" Chanthira asks, walking toward the car.

"Uh," I stammer. "He has a knife in his thigh."

"Fucking shit," Demyan's eyes widen before snapping his head to me. He points to me with his gun. "Why the fuck are you just standing there? Our–No– your boss is just sitting there with a knife in his leg and you–our doctor is running in the opposite direction for some fucking inane reason."

He strides towards me and I make the mistake of taking a step back. He snorts, bitterly. "Look at her, kakaya khotʹ ona? Ona utverzhdayet, chto ona otlichnyy boyets, dazhe chertovski otlichnyy vrach, no s tekh por, kak ona pribyla, u nas ne bylo nichego, krome trudnostey, yeye proverki biografii seychas nichego ne znachat. Ona stanovit·sya obuzoy, Sasha. Ona dazhe ne mozhet stoyatʹ na svoyem, kogda ya delayu k ney khotʹ shag." (what even is she? She claims to be a great fighter, a great fucking doctor even, but ever since her arrival we've had nothing but hardships, her background checks mean nothing right now. She's becoming a liability, Sasha. She can't even stand her ground when I take one damn step to her.)

Chanthira steps forward placing a steel hand on his chest preventing him any further. Her stare bores into his eyes which never leaves mine.

"Otpusti yeye, Demʹyan, ya serʹyezno." Her tone is alarming. (Lay off her Demyan, I mean it.)

"Pochemu?" he throws his hands in the air. 

Sasha steps in front of me. "Why? Because it seems to rattle your mind that yeah she can fight but guess what? It doesn't seem to be going through your thick fuck-up skull that maybe she's not perfect, that maybe if you had someone much taller than you, charging at you, eyes ablaze, you would take more than one step back. You'd fucking run."

His eyes thin to slits. "Run?" he scoffs. "Nash dolg zashchishchatʹ vas, Chantira, vsekh zdesʹ prisut·stvuyushchikh." (It's our duty to protect you, Chanthira- everyone here.)