Pairing: KaiMinzy
Word Count: 413

Take Me Away

Blood dripped from the end of the blade pricked into his skin, the region of his neck adorned with speckles of crimson. Tentative nostrils flared, her stoic conscience wavering under the might of his astonished gaze, a fear reminiscent of her past deterring her from slaughtering him on the spot. Hovering by the jugular vein, the mission could have been accomplished fairly quick, the knife easily capable of tearing into his flesh and ensuring his death in under five minutes.

Why did she needlessly drag out her task?

Stonily, she scrutinized the sharp contours of his jaw and cheekbones and mulled over the numerous occasions she had seen the same bone structure grit in pain, pleasure, and anger. Such gaunt features had been lavished with love and care, kisses and nicks. She had seen much of him in the duration of her stay, his days spent embarking on trips to volunteer centers and schools, his assistance always readily given.

He had a kind heart, a gracious soul and she had been instructed to kill him, the benefits of his death altogether confusing and frustrating to decipher.

Although, the reasons for his eternal silence should not have bothered her – she just had to kill him. What was she doing?

In her time as a hired assassin she had never batted an eyelash towards her victims, a child of seven had been no exception, and yet, she found couldn’t do it. Not to him.

She could not rip the life from his vivacious eyes, which had danced and swirled in utmost happiness on even the gloomiest of days. These pair of irises had consistently forgiven and accepted, the nastiest of scars healed and cleansed by his very stare.

Among the days of her foolish youth, she had dreamt of a similar gaze roving upon her form and acknowledging her worth as a human being and quite above the label of a ‘monster.’

For far too long she had studied this man and for far too long she had loved him.

Begrudgingly crying her remorse and defeat, she cast aside the weapon from her grasp, snatched his collar and kissed him, his taste frighteningly sour.

She had wanted the sensation of fig upon her tongue, but he tasted of uncertainty and terror, the crude flavor bitter to her buds. Her shrewd mouth almost smiled in wake of the disheartening discovery when it had simply assured her she would never have his approval nor his delectable acceptance.