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"𝘼𝙩𝙩𝙖 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡," 𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙪𝙧𝙧𝙚𝙙.
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In which Gwendolyn Bird, beaten and bruised by the death of her brother, meets a dark-haired, green-eyed man in the most fateful circumstances. Except, he's holding a gun against her he...
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It was Thursday morning, and Nine was already ready to go inside his apartment and not come out for the rest of the day.
He'd woken Blue up three hours ago to go train at Cherry's, which was an entire battle because she was pretty hungover from whatever bullshit everyone got involved into at their stupid Christmas thing.
And then getting her to focus on her combative skills as they had worked on the last time they were at the gym-- when her stitches split-- was equally as frustrating.
Needless to say, he had a massive fucking headache.
Now, he was driving them back to the apartment, hoping and praying that she'd talked to Niall about picking her up and taking her to work for the day.
He'd been avoiding her whenever he didn't need to be in her presence.
Like training, which was really the only time he was required to be around anymore.
Since she kissed him on Christmas Eve, he's been keeping his door locked whenever she was within the walls of his place.
She hadn't tried to enter his room and perhaps smoke with him, but he didn't want her to think she could either.
Nine was pretty fucking pissed about the shit she pulled on Tuesday.
He knew that he'd told her to work for it, but he definitely didn't mean for her to kiss him. And he certainly didn't mean for her to kiss him while they were talking about something serious and understandably irritating.
Well, she was the irritating part of their argument, truthfully.
But the main reason he hadn't intended on her kissing him was because he knew that once she did, he wouldn't be able to stop thinking about the taste of her goddamn lips wearing that black-cherry balm he'd let his tongue savor more times than he could count.
Or wanted to, for that matter.
"Can I have one?" Her voice broke his thoughts.
Nine had one hand out the window in the cold again, his knee propped against the steering wheel, and a cigarette being pressed to his mouth by his free hand.
He immediately tensed, keeping his stare forward.
He could feel her eyes on him.
"No."
Since it was the day after Christmas, the area they frequented between Cherry's and his apartment wasn't busy as it usually was.
The streets were fairly void, especially at this time in the day.
This meant that the noise that typically occupied their vacant conversation was, well, not there.