you’re sure this will work ?
A FINGER TAPS ONCE, TWICE, THRICE against frank's shoulder as she saunters behind him, circling around with slow steps until they're face to face and her stance mirrors his own — arms folded over her chest, chin raised, eyes narrowed, both dressed to the nines in a lethal array of weaponry. " what? you don't trust me? after all we've been through? " head cocks and lips quirk into a smile, sharp and sarcastic, as feigned offence laces her words.
' after all we've been through ' was a stretch, only the last handful of hours having been spent in one another's company — a shared goal discovered when they'd held guns to each others heads, threats spat between them in their ire with the interruption of their respective stake-outs. which entailed surveying a PARTICULARLY EVASIVE family of russian mobsters: at least, that's what they were to frank. a select few were a little more to aleksandra: instruments of torture who moulded her into what she is today. traitors believing themselves safe from the wrath they brought forth with their betrayal. traitors that believed themselves safe from her wretched thirst for revenge in their old age. TRAITORS SHE WANTED TO SEE SUFFERING IN THE THROES OF THE AGONY SHE CRAVES TO BESTOW UPON THEM.
" it'll work just fine, punisher. " she drawls playfully, amused gaze flickering over stone cold features. never had she been fond of team-ups, or any sense of camaraderie, and this was no different: BUT IT DID HELP THAT HE WAS EASY ON THE EYES: " don't you worry about a thing. "