Hilde | Kim Taehyung fanfiction ✓

arya

5

Tonight, I'd take care of Novikov, and the sooner, the better.

Just the anticipation of finally confronting Novikov flooded me with thrill. I couldn't wait to rid the world of his presence once and for all. But before doing that, I had to find out what happened to my father, know where he was.

With a newfound adrenaline after almost getting flattened by the passing car, I broke into a sprint, eager to reach Miss Allen's house and begin preparing, despite the early hour. It was barely eight in the morning.

Excitement always seemed to propel me into reckless actions, but I couldn't afford any missteps now, not when I was so close to finding Novikov.

Upon returning home, I greeted Miss Allen with a kiss on the cheek. "Good morning, Edith," I said casually, discreetly stashing the finger in the refrigerator to preserve it, making sure she did not notice.

"Good morning, dear," she replied, her warm smile inviting conversation. "How was the sleepover?"

"Boring. Remind me never to do that again," I quipped, eliciting a chuckle from her lips.

Miss Allen had been my guardian since I was twelve. She was our neighbor when everything went down, and she vowed to take care of me as if I were her own child. The custody battle was a mere formality—there was no one else willing to take me in. She provided me with a home, clothing, and food to the best of her ability. Through tears and laughter, she never left my side, becoming a second mother to me, though I never intended to replace my own. She was had been neighbor for as long as I could remember, so at times I would still call her Miss Allen, or Miss Edith, something she didn't really like.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

"After a shower," I replied hastily, not wanting her to see any traces of blood on me or my clothes. I dashed to the bathroom, pondering what to tell her. I couldn't reveal the truth—that I had spent the night torturing someone and their spouse. The thought of lying to her pained me, but the reality of my actions would be too much for her tender heart to bear. She wasn't as young as she used to be, and what I had done would be difficult for anyone to stomach.

"So, she puked on me," I concluded the story. "Her mom washed my clothes, and we called it a night. The end."

"Avery sounds like a handful," Miss Allen remarked, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Oh, she definitely is. Anyway, can we change the subject? Just thinking about it makes my breakfast rise in my throat," I joked, pointing at the eggs on my plate. "I was thinking of going out tonight, maybe hit a little party to unwind."

The weight of continuous lies weighed heavy on me, I knew I couldn't bear it much longer.

"Out two nights in a row, missy?" Miss Allen raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued.

"Then, no more for at least a month," I promised, raising my right hand as if taking an oath. "No drugs, no alcohol, same old rules."

"Alright, but be back before I hit the hay," she cautioned.

"Six in the afternoon it is."

"You're funny," she said dryly making me chuckle. We finished our breakfast in silence, the comfortable companionship of each other's presence filling the room. Then, we went our separate ways—Miss Allen to the grocery store, and me to my room, where I found myself lost in thought, staring at the ceiling.

I despised being left alone with my thoughts. They always circled back to that night, shrouded in darkness so thick I could barely see a foot ahead, engulfed in a cloud of suffocating smoke.

But this time, instead of succumbing to that familiar, toxic cycle, I forced myself out of bed, shedding my pajamas, putting on a pair of jeans and a plain shirt, and I mentally rehearsed my plan for when I encountered Novikov. My checklist was very clear:

• Find Novikov.
• Torture information out of him and find out where my father is.
• Kill Novikov.
• Kill my father (???). 

Simple and to the point. I preferred it that way. I still debated on the last one, though. Would it be mature of me to do such thing? But everytime I thought about how sweet vengeance would taste, I would through maturity out of the window. 

Throughout the afternoon, I found myself repeatedly reassuring Edith: no drugs at the party, perhaps some alcohol but I wasn't indulging, and boys were the least of my concerns.

Finally, evening arrived. Dressed in my plain white shirt tucked into blue jeans, I retrieved the finger from the refrigerator, stashing it in my back pocket. A knife found its place in my waistband, hidden beneath my gilet. I, then, bid Miss Allen farewell and left.

As I walked towards the Sapphire, the cool spring air cleared my mind. Should I proceed with my plan? Would it endanger Miss Allen too? Maybe I should just return Amato's finger and be done with it.

But it was too late—I stood before the glowing neon lights of the Sapphire, their pink hue distorting my vision like I was on LSD.

With each step towards the entrance, my heartbeat thundered in my ears, drowning out the pulsing music. But fear wouldn't deter me this time. It had already held me back once, and I refused to let it happen again.

Once inside, my gaze was immediately drawn to the VIP section, where a man was on his feet and raising a glass, ready to give the speech of the year before being interrupted by someone who whispered something in his ear. Amato.

As the man turned his head, his gaze locked onto mine. I met his stare with a smile, offering a casual wave. It was too late to turn back now.

Hello, Novikov.