my burnt and black heaven my love that grew from that sadness
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"Where?" was the first thing Yeeun asked me when I emerged from the room, clutching my bleeding arm. Her face seemed to be set in that expression, having been that way even before I came out, as if she knew what had happened even if she hadn't been there.
"No vital organs," I replied, letting go of the entry wound momentarily to show her where the bullet had gone in. "There's a lot of blood, but I'll be fine. It's not my throwing arm."
Throwing arm meant my dominant arm, but I guessed it was nothing more than a weapon-wielding arm to the others. Which wasn't something to grudge them, because it was true. It was my knife-throwing arm now, not my writing arm. All that mattered right now was that I was mobile and could defend myself as well as harm the attacker.
She lowered the rifle and checked my arm, rolling up the sleeve. I felt the pain like I had done before, with all of my mind that could feel it. It was biting and all-consuming, like a flame under my flesh, but I found that I could focus even better with it. All unnecessary distractions were filtered out, leaving behind only the coldness of battle, my mind as bare and clean and precise as a stark landscape.
"You're going to bleed out." Yeeun's voice was tight, which made me look at her in surprise. She was fastening a loose piece of cloth over the wound—the bullet had come out—and tying the knots with a deliberate tightness that made me gasp from the pain. "Good to see you're being as careful as we told you to."
"Are you worried about me?" I exclaimed, startled. She was usually not given to emotion, at least not the way I had seen. Her jaw was clenched visible just under the sharp cut of her blonde hair, and her knuckles were white as she tied the cloth around my arm hard enough to cut off the blood supply.
"If you think you're doing something by pointing it out, let me correct you," she said, still focused on the wound. "I'm a contract killer. Do you know what that means? My targets bind me. I have to kill the people I'm assigned to kill, but never have I ever been assigned to protect someone." Her lips thinned. "The rules are bendable, breakable, even. Who I have to kill keeps changing, and I have to look out for every single person around the subject because of it. It keeps me on my toes."
I raised an eyebrow. She tied another knot with an unnecessary amount of force, making me wince.
"In other jobs, I have to shut off my bias, any emotions I might have towards my employer and my target," she continued. "But not this time. Regardless of how well I do my job usually, I'm not perfect at keeping my feelings at bay. This is different. Even if I harbor a certain protectiveness over my subject, and respect for the person who put me in charge, it will only help me do my job better."
"What are you saying?" I asked. "You respect Jungkook? I killed him, you know."
"I'm saying I respect Vernon. And that I will protect you." She finished tying it, and looked at me, hard. Her eyes were blazing up in fire, but she pulled the shutters down over it, closing her eyes for a brief moment before looking at me again. "What was the first thing I told you?" she asked quietly. "Stay out of the line of fire."
