The Story of Blood and Roses

As I walked into the park, I spotted a middle-aged man in the distance. He was sitting at one end of the seesaw, looking ridiculous as he glanced at me every so often. The park was empty otherwise, and I thought it fortunate that there would be no interference during the face off.

It was still snowing, the flakes rained down at a rapid speed. I was glad that no innocent lives would be endangered during this encounter. I quickly shifted my hand discreetly to my waist so that I could access my gun if the man tried to attack. I could sense that his eyes were glued to my hand as they moved, and he, too, pushed his hand inside the pocket of his jacket and prepared to pull his gun out and shoot.

I took in a deep breath as I calmed myself. The other man was hesitant; it just helped boost my confidence further. His jaw was clenched and I could see his muscles tense as if he were clutching onto the gun in a tight grip. He probably thought that he could shoot me if he had to, but I knew better.

He pulled his hand out of his pocket when he noticed that I had retreated my hand from my waist. He sighed in relief and continued to keep watch on me. I took a quick glance around the park, dissatisfied with his unwavering stare, attempting to find an escape route if worse came to worst.

My latest hit had been tipped off about my mission and was adamant to finish me off before I could get anywhere near him. It was understandable considering that only one of us would come out alive of this mission, and to want to be the one who survives is only human. I had been looking over my should for the past week, unable to find the opportunity to get close to my target because his lackeys just seemed to swarm around me, always vigilant, but today the stupid game of hide-and-seek would finally come to an end.

The man jolted up from his spot at the seesaw and I saw him shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other. He was staring past me. His eyes widened a bit before he turned and bolted to leave. I felt my back stiffening immediately and I sucked in a breath, preparing myself for the pain.

It never came.

I was left stunned as a familiar voice resonated in the cold day. No, it wasn't just any voice; it was the voice of the man I had come to loathe with the very fabric of my being.

"Mia?" his voice was soft, almost a whisper. I didn't turn, trying to keep my heart in control as it thudded loudly in my chest. Ignoring my tumulus heart, I turned to him with the coldest expression that I could muster.

I was shocked to see his face. It was still perfect with sharp features and undeniable beauty, but he looked… younger. Though I hated him ardently, I couldn't help but be in awe of him. His velvety voice pulled me out of my thoughts again.

"Where have you been all this time?" he asked, false concern lacing his words. He was an astonishingly good actor. Even when he smiled warmly and reassured people of his undeniable love for them, his cold and black heard was only concerned with using and throwing away the people he associated with. And he never let them know his real thoughts; that was how good of an actor he really was.

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He wrinkled his nose in irritation when he saw me nonchalantly shrug off his concern.

"Where did you go?" he tried again, and that time I let out a snort. His eyes bulged in curiosity as they locked with mine, trying to coax me into answering him. I had taught myself in time to grow resistant to his charms, to try and keep him out of my head so as to protect me from his mind games. I had learned not to let his treachery affect me. But facing him, being in such close proximity with me was slowly gnawing away the harsh training I had put myself through. I could feel my shield crumpling as he kept on pushing for information.

"Damn it!"

I smiled victoriously to myself as he ran his hands through his hair in frustration.

"Speak to me!" he shook me and my composure broke. I saw red as I pushed him away from me and ground my teeth together to restrain myself from shouting at him.

"None of your bloody business," I growled.

An unknown emotion crosses his features, but before I could recognize it… it was gone. A cocky grin spread across his lips. The thought invaded my head like lightning; he was meaning to torture me with his vicious ways.

"You haven't changed one bit, my kitten." His grin widened.

Two memories from years before flitted through my mind. One made me want to rip his head off of his body and the other to kiss the smile right off his face. Yet the first option was the only one that would satisfy my bloodlust.

"If you call me that one more time, I will chop off your balls and feed them to your watchdogs, Anthony."

He didn't comment because he knew I could do it. His eyes softened a bit and he pulled me into an embrace.

"I'm not Anthony for you, Mia. It's me… Michael."

I knew what he intended to do, this name was given to him by someone who made him want to live a better life, it made him believe that he was not a waste of space on our beautiful planet, and I would not be the one to give him the comfort and reassurance of being called an acceptable human being. I wanted to hurt him; I wanted this criminal to remain a criminal in the eyes of the public. He was simply that, undeserving of my sympathy.

I was too shocked to speak as he held me tightly against his chest. My body went limp, and my eyes blurred. I fought back the tears that threatened to spill. I took in another deep breath and accumulated all my strength to push him away. He didn't let go, but I struggled until I broke free from his arms. He dropped his eyes to the ground and he smiled. He was too confident, and I wasn't ashamed to say that I had once liked that about him.

I clenched my hands into fists as I tried to refrain from jumping him. I carefully mulled over my thoughts before I spoke them out to the universe.

"I'm no different from any of those other people in the world. You prefer to be a man who is feared. You are Anthony, a criminal that needs to be punished." My harsh words didn't have an effect on him. Rather, he seemed wickedly amused by the words, he burst out into laughter.

"Still the same," he whispered before leaning down to kiss my cheek.

The sound of approaching footsteps jolted me away from the touch. The snow crunched under the force of their feet as they ran towards me. I crouched down, hand over the gun at my waist as I prepared for combat. I was prepared to use. Adrenaline pumped through my veins as I glared at the man standing in front of me and pointed the gun to his temple.

"I knew it!"

I was not going to fall into his trap again.

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