𝐅𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐗 𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑.
one of the youngest self-made assassins, doesn't show fear towards anyone. he's isn't loyal, generous or ambitious. felix is as cold as a hard stone. it's nearly impossible to get under his skin.. until he meets her, isabella...
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I know I shouldn't have said the words I just said. Because all I've done now is just scare her. And I'm trying to do everything but that.
But I just can't help it when she keeps talking to me like there's no fucking respect.
"What, are you some kind of stalker?"
"For you? Perhaps,"
Honestly, I would think that I'd never see the sight of a speechless Isabella, but since I'm currently experiencing it, I guess miracles do still happen.
Staring at her brown eyes that perfectly match her brown, silky hair I can't help but think about all the things I would do to her if it weren't for another reason that i brought her here.
She would look so good in my arms. So good under the weight of my body, covering hers while she's laying on my sheets.
It took me a while to understand that whatever I was feeling for her was an obsession. After searching up a bunch of information on her, I couldn't help but visit her room almost every night.
I would tell myself that this would be the last time I went to check on her but every day I found myself riding towards her neighbourhood, watching through those transparent curtains.
Most of the time I visited her at night, feeling the safest that way. But there have been times when I desperately had to visit her in the morning since she's the reason I couldn't close my eyes at night, scared she would leave my thoughts.
So whenever she was about to head to school, I would be there, in my Bugatti, watching as she sped away on her black Yamaha R6.
And now that I finally got her, all I wanted to do is keep her all to myself. But I knew better than that. I needed her as much as she needed me.
Maybe she would not realize it straight away and maybe she shouldn't, but it's the truth.
"Why am I here, Felix."
I sigh as I know it's finally time to tell her the truth. Before they even leave my mouth, I cringe at the next words I say.
