Post by La Flor on May 31, 2011 21:34:29 GMT -5
A heartbeat skip, relationship, inside a bubble bath;
An icing drip below your lip so we undo the math.
A sudden slip between my pathetic sedatives;
Areal-life script of how mistakes became our medicine.
So delay the hurtful words of complicated overcast.
Please take the message that I'm picking up my chin at last.
I said my confidence, it gets stronger when you're next to me.
But we pray from miles away, in quest for what we long to be.
Normally, Anarose would not have entered Deadhut. Hell, she wouldn't have even neared the forbidden building on any other day in her life; the waitress knew how Deadpool was about his home. She had seen the remains of a trespasser once, and that was enough to keep her far away from the building. But today was different. Today she had to deliver orders to Weasel, and the genius had not emerged from the Deadhut in nearly a week.
Luckily, she and Deadpool's little girlfriend were friends, and the mercenary tended to listen to whatever Jasmine had to say. And when Jazz had told him to let her come into the Deadhut without any fear of retribution, it had not taken long for Deadpool to fall to his knees with an agreement. It made the woman smile to think about how much Wade trusted his girl - and how much he loved her, too.
She missed that sort of feeling.
She could still remember when she and Julio had first started out. They had been madly in love, and there hadn't been a thing she would not have done for him. He had given her everything her heart desired, as well; he had given her his heart, his name, and Gabe. He had given her the child she had always desired. She could still remember the warmth in his eyes when she told him she was going to have his child.
But some things were best left unremembered, she mused as she pushed the door open. The past was the past, and there was no way she could ever reclaim the love that had once burned between them. All Julio wanted from her now was her son by his side, and her body, dead on the floor by his feet. He could have her life, but he would never take her dearest son from her. There were plenty of mercenaries out there willing and ready to get him back, should anything ever happen to him.
"Wease?" Anarose called, shifting the bad on her shoulder slightly. All the orders - and even a surprise for Weasel - were tucked safely inside, just waiting for him. She knew that a couple were weapons, but a few were merely gadgets. One was even a gift for the mercenary's daughter. "Weasel, I brought this week's orders."
And lunch, Ana thought, but did not say aloud. She didn't want the quesadillas to attract any unwanted attention from a certain red and black clad mercenary. They were for Weasel, and Weasel alone.
