Butterflies

Chapter 5

"so... Are you taking me out so you can kill me? Take me out the equation?" Violet broke the silence, Butcher scoffing.

"As much as I want to do that, no not yet," he smirked.

"Not yet? Ooo so mysterious," she laughed, "you know I could have just got rid of Translucent myself."

"And if you did you'll be dead before you can finish that thought," he shot his head round to her, Violet biting the insides of her cheeks.

As much as it may be fun to be sarcastic to annoy him, it was difficult when one look could imply what she feared. Something about the cold look in his eyes paired with his smile sent a chill down her spine. She would push until she got an answer, finally see him snap and reveal his master plan. However, the more she did, the more she was finding she was only asking just to provoke him, not because she was truly interested in knowing.

Butcher reluctantly put his eyes back on the road after watching her eyes widen, her long eyelashes practically reaching her eyebrows. It was strangely comforting, having her annoying commentary whenever it grew silent, asking him all sorts of questions. He didn't care to get to know her, didn't care that her favourite meal was a roast or she really liked the colour green, no matter how much the running chatter made him feel a little less stressed. You would have to fight him to get him to admit that in that moment he almost felt himself smile when she told him a tale of her cooking almost burning her building down, or how she had to practice for months to be even able to walk in heels. You would have to kill him for him to admit that he almost didn't want to kill her, that maybe he was regretting bringing her along, and why he couldn't have just left her alone.

Butcher was complicated, he'd be the first to admit that. He wasn't one for friends or close relationships, he picked them very carefully. He didn't want to tell his whole life story to someone he'd just met, even if her warm smile was begging him differently. He wanted this all to be over, so he can stop feeling sympathy for the girl who can erase him from existence just like that.

After a while they formed a comfortable silence, Violet had run out of things to say and she got the idea that Butcher was not going to input any of his own stories into the conversation. It wasn't like before when she would awkwardly shift in her seat, unable to say two words. Now it was a calming silence that Violet felt she could relax to. She could stare out into the night without a care in the world, except the worry of wherever he was taking her.

••••••••••

The painful sound of an alarm clock went off, that endless ringing that you loath with every ounce of your being. Butcher and Violet stood in the kitchen of a stranger's house, one Violet was unfamiliar with but Butcher seemed to know the way around, even in the dark of the night. He told her to stay quiet as they waited for their guest. He also told her to wait in the car but she followed along anyway. As a woman in her nightgown hesitantly walked down the stairs and past them, Butcher smirked.

"Congrats on your promotion, Susan," he said cheerfully.

Jumping, she spun round to them, holding a gun straight at Butchers face. Violet gasped and held her hands up, Butcher pushing them down immediately.

"Jesus christ. Butcher," Susan put the gun down.

"Madam Deputy Director, eh?" Butcher continued as the woman sighed, "wow. Andrew and the kids must be chuffed for you."

"Keep your voice down, and don't talk about my family, it makes my skin crawl. What are you doing here?" she noticed Violet "and who are you?"

She glared at Violet who stuttered slightly.

"I'm-"

"Irrelevant. Just need a quick dekko at some of your files," Butcher explained.

Shaking her head, Violet leaned into the kitchen surface, Susan now looking at her more suspiciously than intimidatingly. Susan had files, she wondered if she was who he was getting information from, and how she got the information in the first place. If bringing her with him did anything, it was make Violet even more suspicious of her own life than she was already starting to feel. If multiple people knew her, knew of her, and if she could be constrained to a file. The Mallory files they called it, an intriguing name for intriguing information.