successors

jesse

f o u r
[ caeli ]

SHE WAITED AGAIN, for the room to be empty so she could be with him. Alone. With only the candlelight to aid her to see his face, all of his stern face that made her feel like she was staring into a dysfunctional machine. He was handsome in his ever lovely ways, but he had broken seams that needed repairing.

"Kris," her hands found his as she tried her best to make him listen for once. "I am not sure this is safe."

The alarm in her voice clearly didn't alert him as he just smirked at her. "There is no safety with me around, Jesse. You know that too well." His voice was raspy, clearly awake for too many hours. He had been scheming this, planning this whole thing that would actually do something with their futures. They were just a group of thieves stealing away some wealthy man's pride and a lot of their money-each of them knowing it is wrong and it will never be as justifying as saving the world, but stealing away from people who never deserved what they had was clearly satisfying to them. None of them believed in any saints' saying, or proverbs that could actually help their character development escalate to high levels.

They started off as a duo, Kris and Cas, two of the same blood. Kris is a full-blood Pyra, whilst Cas is a McTyr, but her mother was a Pyra, and what's in suspicious with them was that their mothers are sisters, but they never really talked about it. Nobody knew where they came from, or how they have been together. Just been approached by both of them-Kris had took a choice on dealing in Ven, Jordan and Dice, while Cas, in her harrowing ways, had dealed in three girls.

"I know that." Jesse said, a reminder for Kris and herself. "And I hate that."

"You could stay here if you want. It's not safe for weak souls." If she knew better, she would have slapped him in the face. But Kris had a different way of showing he cares, and the tell was when he takes a breath before talking-that's when you know he actually cares. And he was probably talking about her abilities, not her willpower. Whichever, Jesse would choose to cling to the good side.

"I don't want to disappoint the gang."

"Or yourself."

"I do not let myself be drowned by my pride, Kris. I do not plan to be like you."

"It's not a crime to not want shame be wore like a pageant sash, is it?"

"Funny we're talking of crime and yet here you are: a walking crime scene." She gave him a look that demanded attention, as if she was begging—no—ordering him to look at her. And he did. He replenished himself of her eyes that his jaw drew tight, almost abolished. Almost, always almost.

"No joke, Jesse. I mean it. You're not as strong as you think you are, and you can't always be stubborn as you are now. I would leave the title and deed to this building to you—if they try anything to you, I'll arrange another pl—"

"You know I'm gonna keep being stubborn, right?"

"Yes, and I hate that."

Jesse let out a sound of disgust and let her hand be swept away by the sting of the burn he'd left. "You're an asshole, Kristino. But I will have you. Every goddamn piece of your whole puzzle."

He only replied with a smirk, dropping the topic. Already knowing how stubborn she is, she would still follow. Even when he doesn't ask, even when he does, even when there's only two of them left and the world was cascading into flames—she knew she'll be there. That's how stubborn she is. "We'll see."