@superluminas sorry xkit broke L
“ and what about those people? they’ll only find someone to blame for all of this pain.... even the only person in that crowd who risked her life to save him. right?” she doesn’t think about the people she’s killed anymore once they are dead. for years, she’s watched the consequences of her actions -- some assigned to her, some entirely voluntary -- unfold as talon desired. she’s taken so many lives that it does not even feel good anymore, not unless she feels the blood seeping through the gaps of her fingers, painting her skin and hair in arterial red. mondatta’s death had been different. for an assigned target, it was exhilarating.
“ you did what you could. i almost failed. ” there was a point that night where she had contemplated how to deliver the news of her failure if he escaped. one second, two seconds later and he would have been in that armored vehicle and out of her line of sight, and away from the sea of people that talon wished present to witness his murder. if anything, lena deserves to know she respects her.
she will remember this assassination for the challenge it posed her, not for her fine work, nor for the praise it sung from her superiors over drinks at the monte carlo -- she earned her rightful recognition, but could have returned to talon that night with more than one victory. a gain far more valuable to talon than mondatta’s head served on a silver platter, yet one she’ll never partake in.
“ mmm, maybe not..... “ her words are spoken with a distinctive, playful lilt, a deceptive kind of tenderness seeping from a tone much too sweet to come from her lips. lena obeys her, moving closer, and widowmaker lifts her head, chin raised in silent approval -- no small movement goes unnoticed by her eyes, appeasing a dangerous volatility that she hides well with a delicate, beautiful smile. her teeth are sharp. “... but i don’t know if anyone really does know you, lena.... “
breathlessly, she laughs softly, allowing her gaze to fall, “ you’re guarded. we’re alike, in that way.....” in many ways, she suspects. her fingers are spiderlike as they coil firmly around her wrist, long, slender and cold as ice to the touch.
“ but you don’t know me either.”