The Story of Blood and Roses

I spotted a middle-aged man in a distance, sitting on one end of the seesaw and glancing at me occasionally. The park was empty, fortunately with no possibility of interference. It was still snowing quite badly, and I thanked God for it. I didn't have to endanger the lives of innocents this way. I quickly repositioned my hand so that it was easier to pull out my gun if the man tried to attack. His eyes were glued to my hands and he, too, pulled his hand inside the pocket of his jacket and prepared to take a shot. I calmed my nerves when I saw his hesitation. His muscles were tensed like he was holding onto the gun for dear life. He thought he could shoot me if he had to, but I knew better. He pulled his hand out of his pocket when he noticed my hand coming back to his view. He sighed in relief and kept staring at me. I glanced around the park, unnerved by his unwavering stare, searching for possible escape routes if any attack began.

My latest hit knew that I was coming for him and that made him want to finish me off even before I came close. I had been protecting my back for the past week, unable to concentrate on killing him, but today his hide-and-seek game would end.

I saw the man shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other. He was staring past me. His eyes widened for a bit and then he quickly turned to leave. I stiffened immediately and took in deep breaths to be ready for the pain. It never came. I was stunned into silence when I heard a familiar voice. No, not just any voice, but the voice of the man I had come to loathe with all my existence.

"Mia?" his voice was soft, almost a whisper. I didn't turn, trying to keep my heart in control as it thudded loudly against my chest. I took in a deep breath and ignoring my heart, I turned to him with the coldest expression that I could manage.

I was shocked to see his face. It was still perfect with sharp features and undeniable beauty, but he seemed … younger. Though I hated him ardently, I couldn't help than 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 a perfect actor. Even if he spoke to someone with a smile, everyone knew that he was going to use him or her; his heart was cold and black.

I shrugged indifferently, making him wrinkle his nose.

"Where did you go?" he tried again, and I let out a snort. His eyes burned with curiosity as he locked his eyes with mine and tried to get his answers. I had learned with time how to keep him out of my head and not let anything related to him affect me, but facing him was so much harder. I could feel my shield crumpling as he kept on searching.

"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 keep from shouting at him.

"None of your bloody business." An unknown emotion crosses his features, but before I could recognize it… it was gone. A cocky grin spread across his face and the only thought that came to my mind was that I was up for some serious torture.

"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 apart and the other to kiss his smile right off his face, but ripping his head seemed to be more satisfying.

"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 he wanted me to call him by that name, but my cold heart forbade me from giving him any kind of comfort. I wanted to hurt him as much as I could; he was a criminal in every-ones' eyes, including mine.

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 control and pushed 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 smiled. He was too confident, and I wasn't ashamed to say that I liked it.

I clenched my hands into fists as I tried to refrain from jumping him. I thought before I spoke out the words.

"I'm no different from any of those other people in the world. You prefer to be a man who is feared of. You are Anthony, a criminal that needs to be punished." My harsh words didn't make an effect on him, but he laughed wickedly.

"Still the same," he whispered and leaned down to kiss my cheek.

The sound of footsteps made me crouch into a defensive position with my gun waiting to be pulled out and used. I growled at him as I pointed the gun to his head.

"I knew it!"