𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 : @impulsivemoney·
ANGER NESTLES IN HIS CHEST, the tension of the past day growing inside like a tumor no amount of smashed valuables could treat, venting the rage through bruised knuckles and shattered porcelain. This time, the FIRST RULE didn’t apply, and he of all people was supposed to stay professional. It failed. It failed miserably back in the monastery, the nights he spent outside the shared room with a glass of whiskey and a pack of cigarettes for company.
But he never compromised the plan. Unlike Tokyo – and Tokyo never had the FUCKING RIGHT. Loud footsteps echoing off the walls of the bank as he approaches her, a hand reached to grab her shoulder and force her to turn towards him. Too drunk to even stand still, to maintain eye contact. Her gaze is HAZY, blurred. His is aflame.
❝ ¿Qué carajo crees que estás haciendo? ❞ Her boyfriend dumped her, a pretty little LOVE STORY shattered behind these walls, a tragedy so profound Shakespeare would shed a tear. But Berlín – Berlín is no Shakespeare. The man who willingly sacrificed his own love story for the sake of the plan – for the sake of HERS, and she has no idea. She has no idea what hides behind the stone facade of his fake tranquility. Now it’s just white-hot rage.
❝ Mirame. ❞ A grip of steel as he grabs her chin, eye contact established at last. Burning down to the core. Sobering. Truth is, he’d love to be drunk, too.
IT WAS ONLY A MATTER OF TIME . . . before it would all go to shit.
everything had gone wrong after río’s return ; a mess of broken hearts , anger clawing at her veins like a rabid dog. he had the audacity to break up with her ? who the fuck did little río think he was ? above them all , too good for whatever chaos she’d crammed into their lives – it’s not like she was innocent in all of this – it was entirely her fault. another robbery. all because she couldn’t simply relax on a beautiful beach ; because the normalcy of the island , the calm , domestic life had never been in her cards. tokyo : wreckage incarnate. it shouldn’t have come as such a shock to the system. why would anyone in their right mind stay ?
of course , with heartbreak comes a mourning period. a time to get shitfaced & complain about your ex to anyone that will listen. denver. too much of a pussy to explore the maserati. plus he was married – right. then drinking alone would have to do.
honestly , she can’t remember when the hard liquor started hitting her tongue , bringing on pleasant delusions of invincibility , as if her world hadn’t collapsed before her very eyes. but once it started – it didn’t stop. the faint voice of the others rings in her ears , intoxication taking full control. yeah . . . she might’ve had a little too much. it’s the hand yanking her back into place that grounds her , though her eyes can’t seem to focus on who’d pressed pause on her fun. his voice though – shit , she’d recognize that grumpy asshole anywhere.
fluid movements go on hiatus , body finally settling to simply stand there. no swaying. only a hand that reaches up & grips the crimson sleeve that belongs to the man ; fingers digging into the fabric in a failed attempt at getting to his skin , nails burrowing – in part to keep her from fluctuating , in part to make him let go. a yank. checking for a loosening hold. it shows the drunkard how little control she has & it’s terrifying. ❛ déjame. cabrón. ❜ words drip with poison. warning.
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