Alliance || 1 || ✔️ mature

32 | Eleven

Tell them you're strong.
Tell them you're enough.

My mistake stares back at me in the light of morning, his eyes closed.

I swallow the dread in my stomach, eyes tracing over his features as if to memorise them, feeling time creep up on me.

And I'm almost out of it.

I push myself from the bed, walking to my bathroom quickly, and stuffing myself under the hot spray of the water, cleansing my mind.

Don't get too close.

I remind myself of the words said to me.

Too late.

I breathe out twisting the knob to cold, letting it wash over me in cool clarity, and begin washing my body and hair, swearing when I see the wet gauze stuck to my stomach.

I get out, removing the bandage and replacing it with a new one after cleaning the area, my eyes piqued to any noise outside of the bathroom but judging from the lack of sound, Archer is still asleep.

I exit my bathroom, drying and dressing myself quickly, all the while watching Archer's sleeping form for movement.

He doesn't stir, his chest rising and lowering slowly, peacefully.

I shut my bedroom door behind me, walking slowly down the stairs.

I stop finding two pairs of eyes on me, Clay and Cleo wearing matching expressions of amusement.

"You know just because you live here, doesn't mean its not a walk of shame." Clay says

"Yes, we all heard you guys' last night," Liam says, walking in from the kitchen, stuffing his mouth with a croissant, "These walls are paper thin."

"Leave her alone, she must be tired." Cleo says through her smiles, "And hungry."

I narrow my eyes on all three of their faces, "I am actually, where did you get that croissant?" I ask Liam, already walking to the kitchen.

"Oven, they're fresh." Cleo calls out.

• • •

I walk back out of the kitchen to the sight of a tired Archer talking with Clay, his eyes finding mine as soon as I appear.

I swallow my nerves, walking for the lounge and sitting beside Cleo, Liam falling to the cushions beside me.

Clay turns to us, "I found footage of our mystery man from the docks." He starts, "Ran the stills through the database and got a match."

I lift my brows, interest piqued.

"His name is Dimitri Volkov, the son a well-known crime family in Russia. Last known sighting was over two years ago when he was seen in the same vicinity of infamous hitman, Jedrik Molotov."

The name shocks me into my thoughts, a well of memories rising up to meet me.

A calm overtakes me, settling into my bones and nesting in my heart. The gun in my grip is warm under my fingers, digits toying with the trigger as I watch the murderer below me.

I lift the gun, the click of the safety disengaging dull to my senses.

"Your sister was perfectly alive when your boss found her," Jedrik hisses, the blood coating his face sinking into the cracks and crevices of his weathered skin.

I blink, masking the shock in my voice as I shove the gun closer to his forehead. "What did you just say?" My voice was monotone even to my own ears, emotionless and detached in the face of my little sister's murderer.