safe with me - dnf mafia au (english)

>39<

Drista POV.

I got to the back door of the giant house and used a clip from my hair to pick the lock.
The door opened within a few seconds and I yanked it open to enter, still trying to keep as quiet as possible.

So far, the burglar hadn't noticed me, and he just stood with his back turned to me, seemingly inspecting the other weapons on his belt.
My heart was beating faster in my chest than ever before as I slowly approached him, and I was driven solely by adrenaline as I grabbed him from behind to pin his arms to the sides of his slender frame.
He didn't seem to have expected my attack at all and let out a startled gasp before his reflexes suddenly kicked in and he kicked me in the shin while trying to shake my arms off of himself.

For the next few seconds he kept on trying to free himself from my grip and I finally let go of one of his arms, cursing, but only to twist his right arm behind his back.
With my other hand I covered his mouth as he fell to the ground, squirming in my firm grip, but I didn't stop there.
I snatched the open switchblade from his hand and pointed it at his throat instead, and he stopped struggling, not daring to move a muscle while I pressed the cold metal to his skin, beginning to pierce the pale surface already.
He stared at me from below, but all he could see was my black mask and the green crosses on top of my eyes as I made him kneel on the floor in front of me.

He suddenly tried to kick me again, so I let go of his throat and instead slammed the switchblade right into one of his thighs, trying to teach him a lesson so he'd stop fighting back.
Despite my hand that was placed over his mouth, I couldn't block his scream as he doubled over in agony, trembling.
Shortly after his scream, I heard a few noises from upstairs, but I ignored them for the time being.
Instead of just directly pulling the knife out of his skin, I sliced his leg open in a straight line, making the wound much larger and wider than before.

Again, his loud screams couldn't be covered up by me, so I gave up trying to silence him with my hand, instead I grabbing the back of his hair and pulling his head up so he was forced to look at me.
I placed the blood covered blade against the sensitive skin of his neck yet again, but before I could wound him any further, I heard a gun being loaded just a few feet away from me.

My eyes snapped up and I froze when I saw my brother Clay holding the loaded weapon and pointing the barrel straight at me.
He was completely still, staring at me with pure hatered in his eyes as I continued to hold the whimpering, bleeding brunet man by his dark hair.

"Let go of him."

The coldness in his words startled me and I winced.
His voice was menacing, powerful and terrifying, and I had trouble associating those sounds with my loving, supportive brother.
Clay glanced at the stranger, who was looking at him with just as much despair as I felt at that moment, while he continued to cry.
His eyes found my face again, and he gripped the gun a little tighter, shaking, before speaking again.

"Let go of him or you're dead. I won't give you another warning."

This time, I was able to move again and let go of the brunet's hair before I threw the switchblade on the floor next to him.
The stranger slumped into himself a bit at my feet and it seemed to me that he would collapse at any moment.
His strength was obviously fading due to the constant loss of blood, and it was clear that he wouldn't be able to stay conscious for long.
I raised my hands in surrender and kept them right next to my head before slowly reaching for the band of my mask at the back of my head.
Clay followed my every move with his eyes to make sure I wasn't going to do any more harm, but I didn't do anything to provoke him further.

I untied my mask and grabbed it with my left hand, then pulled it away from my face in one swift movement, looking my brother straight into his eyes.

He froze and completely stopped breathing for a good five seconds, and I could have sworn his heart stopped beating for a moment as well.
His hands shook for a bit before he dropped his gun, as if it suddenly burned his hands.
He took a step back and shook his head, back and forth and back and forth, as if he couldn't believe I was actually standing in front of him.