No Love For The Villain

“Can you kill me?”

“Hmm, I’m rather expensive, you know.”

Ten years after her father was mu*dered, the body returned. Accompanied by a beautiful and dangerous man.

A hitman who kills people for money. He is a beast without guilt, an evil man who ruins other people’s lives. So she wanted him. She wanted that man who would kill her without pity.

“I don’t have a hobby of killing people who are desperate to die.”

“Then what kind of people do you kill?”

“People who beg me to save them.”

“That’s cruel…”

“That’s what I do. I act like I’ll give people what they want, then ruin their lives.”

But what if what someone wants is to have their life ruined? Then isn’t he, in the end, giving them exactly what they wanted?

“Put up new curtains, plant some flowers. Make it look nice come spring. Don’t you think that would make you want to live?”

She couldn’t understand that man who spared her even though she asked to be killed.

For what reason does he feed her, clothe her, and show tenderness?

Why does he make her want to live?

The winter with him was warmer than spring.

The hell with him was brighter than heaven.

The man everyone called a villain was my savior.

The illusion that by his would be my heaven, shattered. The man who acted as if he would grant wishes then ruin lives proved her words right. His arms closed around the woman he had reclaimed like shackles snapping shut.

“I hate you.”

“Say it again.”

“I hate you.”

“Again.”

“…….”

She could not understand him. The attempt to understand kept her looking at him. As her eyes stayed on him, the corner of the man’s mouth rose.

“What should I do? Now those words of yours sound like you saying you love me.”

Only then did she understand his name. The god to be loved and the devil to be hated, the two were one.

“If you are going to kill someone and go to hell for it, it should be me.”