peach flavoured ✔

𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓇𝓉𝑒𝑒𝓃

Bambina donned a simple black dress with long sleeves, covering up her scabbing scars and the skirt covering her thighs. She stood taller with her black heels, her back straight, exuding confidence.

Taking a deep breath, she slouched slightly and smiled brightly in the mirror, filling her eyes with visible twinkling happiness.

Leaving the room, she twirled in front of Marcello, who had a frown etched on his face.

"This isn't a good idea," he murmured, a hand over his face.

"Come on, it's going to be fun!" She grinned and laughed.

A man of little words, he suddenly pulled a box from behind his back and twirled it in his hands, looking intently at it.

"That's so pretty," Bambina sat beside him.

The white shiny box had a satin pink bow around it.

"Open it," he handed it to her.

She marvelled at the smoothness of the box, it was heavy and Bambina couldn't help but wonder what was in it.

+++

Upon opening the box, her eyes widened.

Inside was a gun almost identical to the black gun on Marcello's bedside, but this one was white with rose gold designs, it had a crown and a Q above the ace symbol, picking it up in her hand, Bambina turned it to the other side, where a burning rose design was etched in.

It's been so long since I've held a gun.

A smile etched onto her face as she held it in front of herself, aiming it and putting it back down.

"It's beautiful," Bambina looked up to Marcello who smirked.

"It's yours," smiling, she turned it over and over in her hand.

He handed her a holster and she attached it to her thigh, placing the gun in there.

"Come on, let's go," she stood and pulled him up from the bed with little difficulty and they walked out of the room together, his arm slung around her shoulders, his closeness made her blush a red.

-('c')-==

They had arrived at the club, the familiar smell of sweat and alcohol filled my senses, people blindly grinding and groping each other as the alcohol took over their actions. The strobing lights matching the beat of the song.

But they were away from all of that, in the VIP room, overlooking the whole club.

"Who's the target?" Bambina chewed her peach gum, swinging her feet back and forth as they barely touched the ground.

Marcello beckoned for her to come as he led her to the glass wall, Marcello simply pointed to a middle-aged man sitting next to the wall all alone, a glass of scotch in his hand as he scrolled on his phone, occasionally lifting his bored eyes to look at the dancing crown.

He had chestnut brown hair with a slight stubble on his face, his phone clearly one of the latest versions and his shirt had the first two buttons undone.

At this moment, the back door to the VIP room banged open, with Cosette sauntering in, her wrist wrapped up in a thin simple cast.

She had on a confident smirk, but upon spotting Bambina, it disappeared, a frightened look instead.

She should be scared, Bambina internally smirked.

"Quickly and quietly," Marcello said to Cosette, a serious expression on his face.