•The Assassin Series•
"Too late as in I already cared about you. Too late as in I got so deep into my fascination of your simple existence that even the mere thought of hurting you, kills me!"
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Sarcastic and Bitchy.
Two great words to...
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Today, the sun didn't show up, clouds did. Piercing, strong UV rays were replaced with thundering rain. Instead of the sweet lullaby from a bird, it is the raging storm with lightening and thunder and comfort.
So, here I lay in bed, a blanket covering my shivering body, chapped lips, eye bags, knotted hair, an undiagnosed bladder infection, and a broken heart.
And I shall stay this way for it is her death day tomorrow. Jezebel Anne Miller.
God, she was something else. I remember my first night at the agency, she came into my room, her usual sarcastic smile plastered on her face, and she told me, "Get your arse up newbie. We have training in thirty minutes and you, darling, are going to be taught by me, Agent 03." She held her hand out and winked. "But you can call me Jezebel."
Something about the way she held her creamy, caramel skinned hand out to me and her soothing British accent made me comply. From that day forward, Jezebel and I were the best of friends.
Then, stupidly, my feelings crossed the line. I started to like her, more and more and more, until one day I wasn't able to tell her I love her and not feel my stomach churn. Because to her, I was her best friend. To me, she was my first love and I couldn't shake her.
Every single thing that she did made my heart flutter and she didn't even know it. At least I thought she didn't, not until that night.
A tear rolls down my cheek and I simply sniffle, not bothering to wipe it away. I shiver as I lift the blanket up and walk to my closet. A decent sized, lavender box sits hidden away in a black duffel bag.
I gently unzip the duffel bag and pull the box out, only to set it down when someone knocks on my door. Closing my eyes for a moment, I sigh and grab a random beanie, hoping it covers up my knotted hair.
"Coming." I mumble just as I reach the door.
Adrian stands on the other side, his arms crossed and a worried expression on his face. "Thank god." he pulls me into a hug. "I came to check on you."
"I'm not going to do it again, Adrian. We have been over this." I whisper.
Just as I feel the slight dizziness of the pills kicking in, Adrian rips the door open. I sob and try to crawl away but my body is too weak.
"Fuck, Alana." he whispers.
Next thing I know, I am cradled in his arms and hunched over the toilet. He shoves his fingers down my throat and I cough a couple of times before ridding myself of any pills.
"I know, I know..." Adrian pulls away and boops my nose. "How you holding up?"
I nod and send him a fake smile that seems to go unnoticed. "Good. Yeah, I, um, I'm a little sad but I am definitely doing better than last year." Bad. I feel like I am falling deeper and deeper into this black hole and Jezebel is the only one who can save me. Ironic, because she's not here.
