Bullet Shaped Heart

018.

                                         -Liliana-

I woke up with a jolt. Somehow, I ended up sleeping on Carson's shoulder, and he ended up leaning his head against mine.

Our hands were still intertwined. It was a funny gesture really. I used to giggle when I saw people holding hands. It didn't make sense to me how a simple movement can make someone feel at ease and safe. As long as my knife was somehow on me, I'll always feel safe.

Strangely though, his hand in mine sent my brain a strange signal. I didn't know what ease and safety felt like anymore, but I'm sure thats as close as I was going to get.

He lifted his head slowly off mine. I could feel the coolness of the plane radiating around me. He was like a human sized heater. It made no sense how someone's body could produce so much warmth.

I pulled my hand away from his before he could do it himself. The neutral look on his face changed into a glare. Only he wasn't looking in my direction. He was facing forward.

I'm honestly wondering if his facial muscles forgot how to smile. This man's face was hardened into a glare most of the time.

"Quit glaring you're going to Paris." I said trying to ease the mood.

"Paris on a mission. Not for person gain, so it will either be Whiskey or bloodshed." He shrugged his shoulders. The glare still evident on his face.

"The city will be full of snotty people in love. I'm telling you, we must avoid the Eiffel Tower at all costs." I tried to fake an accent. Considering my training there, my accent was pretty good. Only a few could tell it wasn't my mother tongue, but thats no fun.

Maybe my brain had conjured it, and maybe Carson Kingston was trying to hold  back a smile and not a glare at something I'd said.

"You've never been to Paris. Have you?" He asked his eyes finally meeting mine.

"I trained in France, but I've never been to Paris. Why? What gave it away?"

"Aside from the hideous accent, the fact that you think the Eiffel Tower is the only place with people showering each other in love." His glare was completely wiped from his face. You couldn't tell it was even there before.

"Hey! No one mentioned anything about showering. There, you ruined our first normal conversation." I pushed my lips into a pout.

His gaze went from my eyes to my lips and back up at my eyes again. It seemed like it was a hard choice on his part judging from his expression.

"Not our first. The first one was on the roof." His glare was seeping back in. Almost like he was annoyed that I didn't remember.

"Well if you call two people sitting on the edge of a roof a step away from suicide normal, I've gotta tell you you've got to get some help. As soon as we go back to New York. I'll even talk to Jackson for you." I batted my eyelashes innocently.

"You just want to be a step ahead. You've no idea what normal is for me." He shook his head.

"There's your mistake, Kingston. I'm always two steps ahead. You so graciously bowing out makes me three steps ahead." We weren't going to get along for much longer. Someone had to say something.

"Kingston again, huh?" He paused as his fingers excruciatingly snuck around my waist. "What are you going to do now? You don't have a knife you can point at my throat." He licked his lips.

I'd rather die than admit I didn't want him to remove his hands. I reached down to lift my pants up slightly. A holster  was strapped to my calf with my knife on it.