𝑯𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒏 𝒐𝒓 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆

Chapter thirty Two
Inara

"Y'know, I don't like it when you give me the silent treatment." Creepy Smile's voice grated against the silence, his face just inches from mine. He dragged his knife slowly across my thigh, slicing with a deliberate slowness, as if testing my resolve. The sting registered, sharp and hot, but I was too accustomed to pain to give a reaction.

It had been exactly one hour, thirty-four minutes, and fifty-one seconds since they'd taken Aang from my side, leaving me alone with this deranged bloodbender. Each second without him felt like an eternity—far worse than the pain.

"I mean it," he continued, huffing in mock annoyance. "This whole process is extra boring without a little conversation." He pouted, almost as if we were in some twisted game where he expected me to play along.

From his endless prattle, I'd pieced together the details of their plan. Jiro had issued strict orders to make my last day miserable, drawn-out—an exercise in suffering. But if that was the goal, they'd have to try harder.

Creepy Smile's knife, his taunts, his sadistic thrill—it all barely registered. The only thing that gnawed at me, truly pierced through, was the thought of Aang enduring this alongside me.

Creepy Smile leaned in closer, his grin widening as he studied my face, searching for any crack, any hint of fear. He wanted a reaction, something to affirm his power. But I kept my gaze steady, letting silence fill the space between us.

"C'mon," he purred, his knife pressing a little harder, drawing a thin line of blood. "You're not giving me anything? Not even a flinch?"

I looked past him, mentally marking every detail of the room every corner, every possible way out. The walls were solid, with barely a window. I'd already tested my cuffs, feeling the bite of cold metal against my wrists and checking for any weakness. Each second without Aang pushed a deeper resolve through my veins, hardening my focus.

Creepy Smile sighed, annoyed by my silence. He spun the knife in his hand, shooting an exasperated glance at buff guy as if to say, Look what I'm working with.

"Did the old man forget to mention you're a damn bore? Might as well be cutting stone." His smile hardened, eyes narrowing. "Well, stones can crack, too."

Another minute. Another breath.

Then, the door cracked open with a violent shove, and Scar Woman stalked back in. Her jaw clenched, voice a razor's edge.

"Boss left he's done waiting. Says we're to finish here and follow him back to base." Her tone held an edge of frustration, the order clear as ice.

Creepy Smile frowned, irritation flashing across his face before his gaze settled back on me, the fire in his eyes now dulled.

Boss? The word echoed in my mind, its implications twisting in my gut.

"But the old man paid for a full day of entertainment," Creepy Smile protested, twirling the knife in his fingers with a casual malice. "Shouldn't we hold up our end of the deal?"

"Boss is over it," she shot back, as if the entire ordeal was more nuisance than cruelty. "Let's get it done."

With a shrug, he gave me one last look—a twisted blend of disappointment and something close to satisfaction—then turned and strolled out with buff guy, Scar Woman trailing behind, her cold gaze lingering on me just a second too long. The heavy door slammed shut, and their footsteps faded into the hallway, leaving an oppressive silence in their wake.

In the silence that filled the room after Creepy Smile finally left, I was alone. A flickering candle on the far wall threw weak shadows across the cold stone floor, casting shapes that stretched and twisted with each faint movement. Every inch of this place reeked of damp, of something ancient and unforgiving. I could feel it settling into my skin, a cold heaviness that tried to eat away at my resolve.