When Selené Cortez told her crime boss fiancé that she would rather die than marry him, she meant every word- she just wasn't expecting him to call her bluff. Now, making his bodyguard, Anya, fall in love with her might just be the only thing that w...
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Selené stood beside Anya half an hour later. Anya's keys shaking her hand as she fumbled with the deadbolt on her front door.
Anya was usually so distant and even tempered. It was off putting to see her visibly distressed.
As Selené stood awkwardly beside her, she could smell her. She smelled like blood, sweat, and wet asphalt. Her eyes lingered on Anya's hands. Looking closer now, she could see the scrapes and bruises that covered them.
She thought about taking them and gently washing them under the faucet for her, bandaging each scraped knuckle carefully. She tried to tell herself that it was just an idea— just something that would make Anya fall in love with her— but a part of her knew that it was something more.
Finally, the door clicked open and Anya stepped to the side to let her in first. It was a small gesture, but something that took her by surprise. Trey always made sure to walk in front of her.
"Thanks." She said, walking into the house.
Anya looked at her, obviously confused, but made no comment.
"Sorry. I know it's probably not quite as fancy as what you're used to." She said, as she locked the door behind them.
Selené cocked her head to the side and glanced over at Anya as she gently shrugged out of her jacket.
"You do realize from what I told you earlier, that I grew up really poor, right?"
"Well, at least that makes two of us." She said.
Anya was right. It was small, but it was also very much a nice house in a nice area. Selené couldn't imagine that it was at all cheap.
The front door opened to a small kitchen, the walls of which were painted a soft pink. There were a few small things scattered on the counters that hadn't been put away. On the fridge Selené could see a shopping list held up by a little magnet, and a few photographs nearby, although they didn't seem to be of family members. There was even a jumbled mess of shoes near the doorway.
It had been so long since she had seen someone living like a normal person. She had almost forgotten what it was like.
"Your kitchen is pink." Selené said, casually glancing around at the carefully painted walls.
"It is." Anya agreed, looking just a bit embarrassed as she walked over to the fridge. "Sorry for the mess. I don't usually have anyone over here."
"I like it." Selené said. "Trey hates color. He says it's tacky. This feels comfortable."
She thought she saw Anya flinch at the sound of his name as she tugged the freezer door open. She reached inside, and pulled a frosted over bottle of rum from the freezer door. Selené watched as she pulled out the cork with her teeth, and spat it to the side.
