leonardo taurus, district 6 [cbd3] done

leonardo asturian taurus

district six

twenty-four years old

His bloodied hair is clenched in my fist, knuckles against the back of his tender head. I hold him at eye level. “Don’t fucking look at her again, pigfuck.” He stammers to reply, swearing he hadn’t done nothing in the first place.

Liar.

I introduce his nose to my right knee, and when he doesn’t admit it, I reacquaint them. Then he spills, blood and the truth, and I loosen my grip. He drops to his own knees before scrambling up, tripping over himself three times before he’s out of sight.

--

His bloodied hair is clenched in my fist, knuckles against the back of his tender head. I hold him at eye level. “How was that, sir?” He licks his lips and tells me I remind him of someone he knew, someone years ago with my same ferocity.

Liar.

I know there’s no one like me, pulling his mouth so close to mine he can just taste my heat. He cranes his neck but I hold tight, lips turning up at one end. When I release, he dusts himself off, puts his clothes on, and leaves with cash on my nightstand.

--

My heartbeat pumps in the swollen skin of my hands, through the too-tight bandage Lidia’d wrapped around them, and I stare ahead at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. It’s cold, blank. There’s a bruise along my left brow from the client last week who didn’t like my new rate. Dark bulging bags hang beneath both eyes. I tell myself I’m not tired.

Liar.

I hear someone laugh downstairs, Zebu caught in one of Heck’s plots, and my lights turn on, my lips flip up, and I carry myself into the living room. Ma had me too early, sixteen and alone, but that was no excuse for them to suffer. I’d rather die than let the herd go without.