Deadly Desires

Cupcakes and killers

Slowly, his eyes open and Nikolai's stormy eyes gaze up at me, still cloudy from the paralysis pumping through his body. 

I smile softly as his eyes widen, taking me in. 

He winces a little as I move back, the dart I fired into his neck will paralyze him from the neck down for the next ten minutes. I wanted him awake after all, he's no fun knocked out. 

"Poison..." He drags out, taking shallow breaths. I've propped him up against the back of the couch and he's likely gathering he can't move anything but his lips, eyes and his head. 

After a beat, he speaks again, "You changed your hair." He says, smirking a little. The gesture infuriates me. 

Even now after all that has happened, he isn't afraid of me. It doesn't matter. He will be terrified in a couple of minutes. I look up to see my reflection in the window, my hair wasn't the cherry wine colour it was before. 

During recovery in the hospital and then back in my apartment, I had bigger things to deal with than hair maintenance. My roots grew out and I realised I missed my natural hair. A rich brown colour that reminded me of my mother. 

"It's nice," He says and I look back down at him again. Now I'm tempted to dye it right back to its original colour. I don't want him to like anything about me. 

"That's all you say? You won't ask how I survived?" I ask him, crouching down so I'm at his eye level. 

The corner of Nikolai's mouth twitches up like he's resisting a smile, "I'm sure it will perplex me for the years to come." 

What a smart mouth. 

God, I hated him so much it was suffocating me.

I tilted my head, "You won't beg for your life?" 

I was disappointed, I wanted to hear his pleas. they'd fall on death ears but still...

"Nothing will help counsel your mercy, I won't waste my breath." He said, locking his eyes onto mine. 

Shrugging, I pulled my shirt up a little to reveal the plane of my stomach. More specifically the mark he left on me. I know, that despite the room's darkness, Nikolai can see the scar because his breathing slows down a little. 

"I carry your mark on me for the rest of my life, and your body remains untouched by me. How is that fair?" I ask, dropping my shirt back down and moving to unbuckle his vest and remove his protective padding. 

He's geared up like I was, only I had already removed my protective clothing. He didn't say anything as I raised his shirt, higher until it rested at his collar. 

I tried not to notice his broad chest or the ripple of muscle. Or the taut abs. 

My eyes immediately latch onto some ink on his left side, etched across his ribs. I stare at the Russian words he has tattooed on his skin. 

ожидание - это корень всех страданий

I really must teach myself, Russian, this was getting incredibly frustrating. I wanted to know what it said. What words could be so important to him that he marked himself with them forever? 

He better not know how to speak French or I was going to scream. That was my only advantage in terms of languages. 

I pulled my knife from its sheath and lightly pressed it at his chest, Nikolai raised his eyebrows at me. 

"Last time we did this, I got a kiss. You feeling generous tonight, love?" 

I could feel his heart racing beneath my palm, betraying his calm exterior. I pressed down, cutting into his skin as I dragged my knife across his chest.