I gaze at Heart as she swiftly eliminates the last of the rapists, killing them by stabbing a knife on their hearts, her movements fluid just as how Medusa would move. '
"So? Am I still not Medusa?" She asks.
"Almost." I had a gift for her and from behind me, I held her stiletto and revealed it to her.
"Feel your weapon." I handed it to her and she dropped her knives, now her eyes were adorned by the stiletto, she waved her hands with it, as if it was a part of her that was always there.
"Feels so familiar."
"Yes. you would use stilettos to stab rapists in the heart."
"So I really am Medusa..."
"How does it feel?"
"A sense of responsibility."
That line scared me, I recall the argument we had last year in the crooked house, this was one of the reasons why I didn't want her to be Medusa, one of the reasons I chose to be selfish and be with her, but she must be free from choice.
She stabs a rapist in the heart and pulled out, she looked back at me with a faint smile, and for a fleeting moment, the chaos of the night faded. That smile—it was the same one she used to give me, back when we sat at KopiKopi, back when things were simpler.
I still remember those days, the jealousy gnawing at me when I imagined her in new places, surrounded by other men. The thought of her smiling at someone else, someone who wasn't me, had haunted me. But as much as that jealousy burned inside, I had no claim over her now.
But I knew our foundation was built with trust. Trust—it was the only thing that kept me tethered to the idea of us, of what we once had.
But that damn smile.
Her smile tonight, though—there was something in it that told me we were still connected, that she was still meant to be mine. The warmth in her gaze melted the icy doubts that had settled in over the past months. She was still my Heart.
And that smile of hers reminded me the warmth of KopiKopi. God.
It wouldn't hurt to build a new KopiKopi after I find the culprit behind the missile right?
"Okay, that's ten rapists for tonight." Heart's voice snapped me back to reality, her tone chipper despite the grim task she'd just completed. She wiped her hands clean as if it were just another day at the office. She looked at me, head tilted, with an amused glint in her eye.
"So, how do we clean this many up?"
"My men will handle it." I pulled out my phone and dialed Elijah.
"Yes, your majesty?" His voice came through, formal as ever.
"Clean up. Ten bodies."
"Understood, your majesty," Elijah replied. I could practically hear his military-style salute through the phone. I ended the call with a shake of my head—he's been watching too much K-drama again.
Heart sauntered over, standing beside me with her head tilted 15 degree sideways with curious eyes lingering at me, her hand resting sassily on her hip. "So? What's next, boss?"
"Airport," I said, pausing mid-sentence. "Wait, let's get in the car first."
We left the scene, the dead behind us, knowing Elijah's crew would clean everything up efficiently. No witnesses, no mess. Just another day in my world.
