blood runs black

VI

'i'm dangerous, i'm warning you, but you're not afraid of me'

- jade west

Enzo

Despite the fact that there was a knife pressed against her throat, her own knife, the one that she'd had pressed against Enzo's throat on many occasions, she didn't seem at all afraid. In fact, there was a cocky smirk on her face that was driving Enzo insane.

"Took you that long to figure out, huh?"

"Shut up." Enzo scoffed, digging the knife into her throat, hard enough for it to hurt but not enough for it to make her delicate skin bleed. "What the fuck are you doing here, Castillo?"

"What, was I not invited?" She asked, feigning surprise. "Oh, well, I guess I'll just see myself out then."

"You're infuriating."

"Infuriatingly gorgeous." She grinned, flashing her pearly whites.

"Just infuriating." Enzo insisted, tightening his grip around the knife in his hand. He was tempted to push it further into her throat, but then he'd actually hurt her. And for some reason, he didn't really feel like hurting her there and then. "Why are you here?"

"I just wanted an excuse to look all pretty and sip champagne." She said, pretty much truthfully. She also liked the thrill of being somewhere she definitely wasn't meant to be. But it was an opportunity for her and Sofi to dress pretty and dance with hot Italian men. 

"And that's it?" Enzo asked sceptically.

"That's it."

Enzo kept his eyes on hers, trying to figure out if she was lying or not. "How'd you sneak past security?"

"I'm a girl with many talents."

"Not a single person has a weapon on them in here. If you really came here just to look pretty, then why the hell did you have this?" Enzo asked, removing the knife from her throat to tilt her chin upwards with the tip of the knife. "Doesn't make you seem all that innocent."

"Like you're not armed too."

"But that's cause I'm one of the hosts and I can never be too careful."

"And I'm not meant to be here. So I can never be too careful either."

He smiled and put the blade back to her throat. "You do realise I could kill you, right here, right now, right?" 

"So do it."

His smile faltered for a second, like he almost didn't expect her to be so casual about it. "I will."

"Go on." Dior smirked, looking into Enzo's eyes challengingly. "You won't. You're bluffing."

"I'm not bluffing." He pressed the blade against her throat harder, wanting to just end her life there and then, and finally win the little back-and-forth the two of them had for the past six years. 

"You are bluffing."

"I'm drunk. I only kill when I'm sober."

Dior let out a little laugh at that. "That's not why, Moretti. The reason why you won't kill me is because you can't. I mean, for the past six years you've been unable to kill a girl six years younger than you. That's a little embarrassing, is it not?"

"Don't test me-"

"Oh, I'll test you. Because you won't do shit." She said cockily. "You can't kill me. And I think I know why."

"Why?"

"Well, aside from your whole moral integrity shit, you won't kill me because deep down, you don't want to. You've tried to, so many times, and maybe you've been close to killing me a couple times, but you've never actually done it. And that's because you don't want to kill me. In fact, I think you want me in a different way."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm not blind, Moretti." Dior ran her hand up and down Enzo's arm, nails scratching against the tight black material hugging his biceps. "I see the way you look at me. I feel the way you react when we fight and we get a little too close to each other. I think you want me, not dead, but in your bed instead."

The hand on Dior's hip tightened, Enzo's brows furrowing in annoyance. "You're full of shit."

"Me? Or you?"

"Shut up." Enzo took his hand off of Dior's hip, moving the blade and pinning her against the wall with his hand to her throat, squeezing tightly, but not tight enough for her to pass out. "Don't fucking say that shit to me."

"What, call you out on your obvious lust for me?"

"Shut up." He repeated, tightening his grip around her throat ever so slightly, the veins in his hands more prominent now. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"I don't?" Dior raised a brow, struggling to breathe a little but trying her best to not let it show. "The way you looked at me earlier, when you didn't know who I was yet, is the same way you've looked at me for the past two years. I've seen it. I'm not blind."

"I want you dead."

"So why won't you kill me?" She asked. "All you have to do is squeeze just a little bit tighter, or get that knife and plunge it into my chest, or slit my throat with it. Hell, you'd be entirely capable of snapping my neck here and now. So why am I not dead?"

Enzo glared, squeezing tighter, and when Dior looked like she really was beginning to struggle a little, he let go and threw her aside, still holding her knife tightly in his other hand. He let out a frustrated sigh, realising everything Dior had said was completely true, that he may still hate her, but it didn't mean he wasn't lusting over her.

He turned around, seeing her coughing a little on the floor, breathing heavily, and didn't feel an ounce of regret. She was a thorn in his side, an enemy, someone who had quite literally tried to kill him before, who he'd tried to kill too. 

But she was right.

Enzo would never kill Dior, because it'd be a waste of a pretty face and gorgeous body.

"I'll admit it, if you admit it too."

"Admit what too?" Dior asked, voice raspy. 

"Admit that you look at me in the same way." 

Dior laughed, even though it irritated her throat. "Oh, Moretti, you're so fucking cocky."

"Am I?" He crouched down, holding her chin, rubbing a thumb over her bottom lip. "Look at the way you respond to me, tesoro. You want me just as much as I want you."

Dior's breath hitched in her throat, her lips parted ever so slightly as he touched her. She looked up at Enzo, and then down at the hand holding her chin, and then blinked a few times, regaining her rationality. "I have a boyfriend. And I sure as hell don't want you."

Enzo laughed and stood up. "When you realise he's incapable of touching you the way I could, come back to me."

Dior scoffed and stood up, brushing off her dress. Her heels added four inches onto her height, making their usual height difference smaller. "You're a cocky fucking manwhore, and I'd never leave the good boyfriend I have right now for you of all people."

"If you say so, Castillo." Enzo smirked and walked away from the balcony, pocketing her knife. "Leave before I call security."

"Don't have to ask me twice." Dior scoffed, shoving past Enzo and walking away.

Enzo took the knife out of his pocket, admiring it. It was a piece of Dior, something she'd always had, something that had been used against Enzo on several occasions. And now Enzo had that piece of her.

He was sure he'd have more of her soon.