Grief

2.

Once again, I think I forgot to put chapter breaks and I paced this way too fast so enjoy another longish chapter :)

She knocked on the door of the man she was supposed to kill. She felt a small sense of familiarity inside her, but it was so small that she ignored it. She wasn't at all prepared, but there wasn't much she could do to stop it.

"Hello?" He sniffled. "Who are you? Why do you need me?"

"I'm–uh–" she stuttered before finally deciding that he was dying anyway, and that it didn't matter if he knew her real name. "Khloe."

"And why do you need me?" He stared into her eyes. His tanned cheek had a small dimple that appeared when he frowned.

"I wanted to talk to you. About um–"

"Scarlett?" He tilted his head.

She nodded, grateful for the excuse he gave her. He sighed and stepped aside for her to walk in. She took the offer quickly and walked inside his apartment. It was dirty and cluttered, but she ignored that in favor of searching for whatever she could use to kill him.

"So, what do you want to know about Scarlett?" He spoke, his voice quiet and raspy. He seemed sad, so she assumed that Scarlett had probably died.

"Um...what was she like?" Khloe tilted her head so she could see his apartment better.

"Wow–uhm– she was beautiful, for starters." He seemed to reminisce in her memory, so she continued.

"What color was her hair?"

He let out a small laugh, one that didn't go unnoticed by Khloe. "It was scarlet, just like her name, just without the extra t."

"And her eyes?" She prodded. He caught her glance and grinned.

"A beautiful blue, one that matches the sky on the most perfect of days." He had a twinkle in his eye, while her eyes finally settled on the knife rack behind him.

"Where's your bathroom?" She asked out of the blue. Well, it wasn't out of the blue to her, but to him, it was.

"Past the kitchen, first door on the left." He sighed.

She thanked him and started walking towards the kitchen. As soon as she was out of sight, she grabbed a knife and turned around.

He was standing there, holding a similar knife.

"So, you knew?"

"Robert told me that a girl would be coming over and that we're supposed to fight. Said he'd pay me if I made it out with my life." His jaw tensed.

Her jaw clenched and she clutched the handle of the knife tightly. "I'm supposed to do this or I will be killed by him and his little goons."

"Ah." He started walking towards her, so she grabbed a second knife and held it up.

"Don't," she warned. "I'll kill you and take whatever money you have around. Make it look like a robbery." She was spitting straight nonsense, but it didn't matter because it was distracting him.

"You wouldn't." He took another step closer. She swung at him and nicked his arm.

"I would. How about you run and we act like you died? Save you a lot of trouble."

"Then I don't get my money," he swung at her and missed. "I want my money."

"You won't get it either way. This way just means that you'll live to see another day." She hissed. She swung at him again and hit his arm. She pulled the knife out quickly while he cried in pain.