Constance thought she could finally stop looking over her shoulder. She has a steady job as a hairstylist, rents a small apartment next door to her best friend, and keeps a routine that distracts her just enough to not have to dwell on her past.
All...
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There is a high probability I will regret this. An astronomically high probability that telling Scissors will not only kill both of us but do it slowly and painfully.
The only reason I'm considering telling her anything at all is because we're already doomed. Either we run for the rest of our lives and hope to be lucky enough to live into our fifties before we are caught and killed or we die anytime between now and then. For a while I figured she should stay in the dark for her own safety but regardless she'll never be safe again.
I have all of this on my mind when she bursts into my shower, catching me off guard causing me to slip and fall. I've trained for years to be at the top of my game and yet this little woman seems to make me vulnerable.
She looked me over slowly, examining my body. Even though I have a very fit physic, I also have my fair share of scars; the largest leads from my hip to under my peck from a knife fight in Azerbaijan but the most noticeable wraps around my shoulder from a one night stand in Lisbon that went horribly wrong. I felt very consciences of my body. It didn't help that she referred to my penis as a hammer and assumed I was masturbating. I wasn't but even if I was, I couldn't have continued after her little visit.
How stupid is that? I'm a killer. I have bought some of the most expensive escorts. I was trained to do what I have to to survive but one glance from Scissors and I get stupid.
Her little dress was drenched from my shower, clinging to her every curve and I suddenly wished It was me against her body instead. That is a dangerous idea so I squash it before it overrides my brain.
She was beat red when she left and so was I. Constance and I can not get involved. If circumstances were different then maybe we could have had something more than just one night of mind blowing sex but now, we can't even have that. I need to be able to make decisions based off of facts not feelings.
I finish my shower, dress and clear Scissors' wet body out of my mind to the best of my ability. I hope that by sharing something with her, she will share her past with me. Though, it's honestly difficult to concentrate when I walk into the room and see Scissors wearing short-shorts and a tanktop sans a bra. She couldn't make keeping her off my mind easy, could she?
"Scissors, we need to talk."
Her face returned to its previous crimson color and she began to ramble. I tried to pay attention, I really did but her hair keeps swaying and her chest rises with every breath and I'm completely lost.
". . .We can go back to the silence. I like silence you know."
I shake my head and make eye contact, snapping out of my haze. "Really? I figured you were allergic to silence."
