❝ you know what, sweetheart? we’ll have plenty of time to tear at each other’s throats later. ❞ | gadreel
𝙲𝚈𝙱𝙴𝚁𝙿𝚄𝙽𝙺 𝟸𝟶𝟽𝟽 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙴𝚁𝚂 // still accepting
❝ THAT A PROMISE, GADREEL? ❞ She knows him beyond his misnomer, made the time and connections needed to track down something close to a real name. The Wanderer’s file is sparse, entombed behind far too many firewalls and an encryption key that’d make the most skilled netrunner sweat. The corporation he’s tied to keeps things under lock and key, but little miss Molly has never let a closed door stop her. She didn’t crack it herself, of course. But if she’s anything, it’s resourceful.
Molly’s pistol remains in hand, loose but ready along her side. This temporary alliance means nothing in the grand scheme of their relationship. Once the client is recovered, they’ll go back to trying to kill each other. A fight so familiar it’s begun to feel like the natural order of things. Like they’d locked into the same hidden step of evolution that branded all other human beings as prey. ❝ I know how this dance ends. ❞ Here upon the killing floor, one wrong move can mean your life. Molly doesn’t care about ending up on top, so long as she lands on her feet. ❝ I didn’t think you were one for delaying the inevitable. ❞
She refuses to be the one bleeding when this all comes to a head. She refuses to show the weakness he looks for. She is the reflection of a frozen lake, turbulent waters churning beneath a still and placid surface. The ice hiding her eyes seeps into his own, frostbite setting in when she has the gall to smile. ❝ Keep calling me sweetheart, and I’ll show you just how sweet I can be. ❞ Scalpels flex from the root of her painted nails, blue steel flashing in the early dawn light.
