❛ I am going to cut that smile off your face. ❜ - from one mr. adrian luca
( accepting – mutuals. // @conflictededge )
she’s past being terrified (not that animal in a cage anymore, pacing the length of it, body wound tight and small and eyes flickering, hesitant) – —- now, she’s simply furious.
she hates adrian luca with everything she has. hates him for what he’s done to her and what he’s done to elliot and what he’s done to the others around her, terrorizing them for as long as he has. hates that he’s ripped away her sense of safety and left her paranoid and frightened and on-edge instead, constantly balancing on the edge of a knife’s blade. hates that he’s the one who’s haunted her nightmares for longer than he ever should’ve; that when she closes her eyes, it’s his face she sees. hates that he’s left her to question everything and left her with this awful, ugly reminder of the things she’s done and the things people are capable of and how, at the end of the day, he will always, always be so much worse.
he likes to think her the only monster, but it’s a practice in denial; if he looked closely enough, he’d see that they aren’t so different after all, she and him. cut from the same ugly, brutal cloth.
(filth teaches filth, after all.)
and now, locked away in another cell in a place that wants to bury her, he thinks he’s going to be the one to break her. he thinks he’s going to be the one who walks out of this victorious, who rids the world of ruin, but he’s wrong, he’s wrong, he’s wrong. (he can keep her locked in here with marcus, he can strip her of her powers, he can smash her face against the concrete and laugh when she hits the ground and struggles to get up and he can lead her from one cell to another and watch as they light her up with wires and needles and machines and take and take and take from her but she’s not going to give him the satisfaction of an easy death. she’s looked it in the face too many times and refused and now is no different. she won’t let it be different.)
if she dies here, she’s going to die fighting.
her smile is an ugly, brutal thing, all wolf teeth.
“do it, then.” with his hand tight against her chin, fingers digging into her jaw hard enough to leave behind bruises, she rears back and spits blood in his face. “you fucking coward.”
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