(Sorry, Kind of reversed it)
She knew the rooftops wouldn’t stay quiet, but she’d expected to at least get a few hours past sunset. Perhaps stop a mugger, or put an arrow through a would-be rapist asshole, through a non vital part of course. Admittedly, she’d gotten lost in her plan, people becoming casualties, deaths becoming necessary.
She’d never been enough for her father, but after watching him die in front of her, simultaneously cataloguing how it feels to starve of thirst and just the precise weight of her father’s last breaths… she knew she had to be enough now.
"I knew I caught the scent of your perfume a few buildings back. I thought you said we’d split the town," a slinky brunette slipped seamlessly from a spot Myka could have sworn she’d cleared a minute ago. Bright brown eyes peered at her through a dark mask, the amusement in their depths far too familiar.
"You get the uptown and all it’s glitzy glory, and I get downtown. It is, after all, the position in which I’m most at home," her grin widened as she crept two steps closer in reaction to Myka’s two steps back, "as I’m sure you recall."
Myka ignored the bait, “I’m not wearing any perfume.”
Helena drifted closer, a completely unconcerned smile on her face even as Myka’s fist griped tighter on her bow, “Really?” As if taking in the bouquet of a fine wine, she breathed her in, “There’s that lotion you used to tell me was scentless but actually smelled of cucumber and melon. If I remember correctly-” Myka knew she was wearing multiple layers but it sure didn’t feel it as Helena’s hand stroked along the length of her jacket,”-after a shower you’d always start on your arms but often get distracted by the second leg, most frequently by me.”
The brown of her eyes seemed warmer against the black of her mask, almost hot, and Myka was suddenly remembering exactly why she’d strayed into the assassin’s territory tonight. She’d missed this. But wanting had already brought too much darkness into her life, had caused her to lose too much. ”There’s also the heady musk of exertion, certainly, and grease. Still making your route through old industrial districts?”