clever as the devil, and twice as pretty.
It is a known fact that when you lie, you do it for a reason - but Nina was lying unhinged and she loved it. she loved the way they left the tip of her tongue. She loved the adrenaline she felt whenever she'...
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LONDON WAS A LOT LESS IMPRESSIVE WHEN YOU'D ALREADY ALMOST DIED THREE TIMES IN THE SAME DAY.
Nina had been here before. Plenty of times, actually. Fuck, she lived here, back when her persona was Nina Adams - and Illiana had forced then to stay in the city against their will. So, naturally, she knew the city - knew the streets, knew the landmarks, knew which cafés charged far too much for coffee and somehow still managed to stay open.
Usually she liked London. It wasn't a bad place to live in. The food was subpar, the culture was meh, but the sceneries were amazing - so she liked it.
Right now, however, she was finding it very difficult to appreciate the said scenery when her life was actively falling apart.
The jet cut through the clouds, steadily approaching the city below while Peter and Happy discussed plans that Nina was only half listening to. The other half of her attention was currently occupied by the fact that she hadn't heard from Valeria.
Not once. Not a text. Not a call. Not even one of those irritating cryptic messages Valeria loved leaving behind whenever she decided basic communication was beneath her.
Nothing.
Which would've been fine - except for the small issue that Valeria had run directly toward Samara and Illiana several hours ago.
Several hours. Nina hated that. Nina also hated the fact that this ridiculously long jet ride was making her overthink every little thing, brain coming up with the terrible worst case scenarios they could muster.
Valeria was powerful. Ridiculously powerful. The woman could set half a city block on fire if she woke up in a bad mood and decided arson sounded fun. She was smart too. Smarter than all of them, honestly.
But Samara wasn't weak.
Neither was Illiana.
And Beck had an army.
Every minute that passed without hearing from her made the knot in Nina's stomach tighten.
She hated it. She hated worrying.
Worrying implied caring, and caring implied vulnerability, and vulnerability usually ended with Nina wanting to punch something. The girl had already unpacked this with her therapist many moons ago, but sometimes - especially during a situation as stressful as this - it was like Nina was repressed into this old, dark, ugly version of herself.
Nina Viotto.
The girl didn't like it.
Unfortunately, Peter Parker had apparently developed some sort of sixth sense specifically dedicated to detecting whenever she was having emotions.
The girl looked up and away from her phone. Nina noticed because, unfortunately, she noticed everything about Peter Parker now, which was both embarrassing and deeply irritating.
