𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐲 |𝟏𝟖+

26 || Hickey

Arctic Monkeys - 505

𝔚𝔚𝔚
Celina

There was a lot of things I wasn't.

A listener, a giver, I wasn't even a good person.

But most importantly, I wasn't a damsel.

When I got into trouble, I most certainly went looking for it.

Today, however, I didn't go looking for trouble, but I sure as fuck welcomed it when I opened my mouth.

It was a Monday afternoon in mid May, the trees had begun to bloom, the weather was now one that made you sweat, and I - deciding to play my part as Adrik Kozlov's- soon to be -useless housewife, was making my way to the pool.

Drink in my hand, snack in the other, and my laptop tucked under my shoulder, I began my stroll through the manor, only to be stopped by a Russian minion the second I step outside.

I recognize this one. Buzzcut from dinner all those days ago. One of the less unbearable men under Kozlov's command.

"I wouldn't go down that way alone." I peer through my sunglasses to the pebbled path behind him and note the grouo consisting of two men and one woman, smoking at a nearby a tree.

I glance back at him. "I'll survive."

He looks apprehensive, "I'll walk you down-"

My face scrunches up in disgust at his offer, finding it nothing but insulting. "I'm a woman not a fucking child." I deadpan, causing the man to take a threatened step back.

I study him impatiently. Perhaps I was a little snappy, bitchy even, but I had reason to.

I've been on edge, mainly because I was edged.

I don't bother explaining myself to him, I simply push past him and leave.

My sandals slap against the stoned path, obnoxiously altering the thruple of now angry looking Russians of my arrival.

I near them, and being the bigger person that I am, I don't say anything.

Only managing to keep my mouth shut, until I step past them and hear one of them mutter something after me.

I should be the bigger person, I should ignore them, I should avoid conflict. But like I say, when trouble follows, you open your mouth and pick a fight.

"Once again," I sigh, turning around to face them. "If you want your words to hit, you gotta have the balls to say them in a language I understand." I glance around, faintly remembering the platinum blonde minion from my first days of kidnapping. I might have killed someone she loved. "Otherwise, I'll just assume you're saying I'm the pretties girl here." I smile.

The glare she sends me is filled with rage and hatred which tells me that I'm correct in my assumption that I might have killed someone she cared for.

Oh well.

"He said," she steps forward and flicks her lit cigarette at my feet, the side of my pinky toe burns and my eyes narrow slightly, but I don't dare to move. "We pray you drown."