years dont last long, right?

chapter three

(this chapter is from Eleanor's pov)

"No, no, no. This wasn't meant to happen. Shit. I wasn't supposed to fall in love with her. My job was to assassinate her. Not to fall in love with her and her cat. Not to fall in love with her stupid rosy cheeks, her ridiculously soft lips, and the dumb way she fiddles with her hair when she gets flustered. I can't fall in love with her. This can't happen." I think to myself, twisting and turning my umbrella as I walk through the rain. Shit.

I eventually open the door to my house, my hands shaking nervously. What am I supposed to do? How can I stop myself from falling for her? I lock the door behind me and flick the lights on. The smell of chamomile tea and old books greet me as I walk through the lounge room archway. I take a deep breath before sitting down in my chair.

I fall straight into comfort, the cushion below me pulling me in like quicksand. But quicksand isn't quick, much like this chair. It still is hard to get out of though. They have their similarities, I guess. I twirl my gun around my fingers, then lay it down in the hidden compartment in the sofa. I don't know what to do. I can't fall in love with her. The job was to assassinate her, hide any evidence, and get all valuables she owned to my boss. That's the job. Not fall in love with her. Not to obsess over her. Not to build a relationship but to kill her. I can't. I can't. I can-

My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of my home phone ringing, the high-pitched tune it plays. I quickly run to the sound, in case Mary is calling. My hands shake as I reach for the phone. I hold it up to my ear. "H-Hello?" I wearily answer.

"The job going well?" A deep voice comes from the other end. The sort of voice that sounds all grave-ly, even if they aren't sick. An oddly familiar voice too.

"Boss! Yes, yes. The job, uh, the job is going well," I tried to agree, hoping my voice didn't give it away "it's going well! I don't think she'll realise a thing."

"Good, good," he replies, seeming suspicious of my voice.

"So uh, why exactly, her? She doesn't seem like much of a bad person?" I question him.

"You don't need to know. You're an assassin. This is the job you were given. You finish this job, I pay you, and we're all happy. Got it?" He yells.

"Yes s-" He hung up before I could finish. What was that all about?

I put the phone down. I honestly don't know what to do. It's like she's trapped me into her love, I can't get out. Fuck, I need to stop thinking of her. I'll only become more attached. I need something to distract me. Maybe.. painting? Yes, that'd work.

As I sit outside in my chair, I wonder what to draw. A bird? No, I did one last time. I sit and think. But my mind is full of so many thoughts, there isn't a clear space to ponder. I go to get up, but before I do, a leaf falls onto my sketchpad

I stare at it. It's a maple leaf, red. As I look up, I see more are falling. That's it. I fill my sketchpad with leaves, each one slightly different. And before I realise, the sun's already down.

I rush back inside, my hair frizzy, trying to catch my breath. As I walk to my bathroom, I feel a sharp pain in my chest. I fall onto the door, and it opens. I crash against the tiles, and my head throbs.

Shit, I can't breathe. And that's when I feel myself drift away.