#╰ * vi . date ━━ 200519 .

[santodomingos]

DATE.            twentieth of may.

LOCATION.   the library of verona.

STATUS.        closed, @brutuskovrov.

Months had passed since Bellamy had been reacquainted with the dealings of the mob, and it showed in the slightest brush of darkness over gleaming irises, the healthy bronze of his skin fading away as the clouds of Italy drowned out the sun, as war worn him down like incessant rain would destroy any flower clinging to life. Every training session was a sacrifice of another piece of himself, ripping apart the flesh of his own heart becoming a clinical offering, ruthless in the pain it brought to numb limbs. Anything to keep Montague wolves pleased ━ Bellamy was used to giving out, giving in. Each new mission was a compromise, for no matter how he tried to spin it, there was no way peace could be connected to his doings. Omission was a sin on itself: he was no peacekeeper, he was no soldier. Standing in between the fortresses raised high in Verona, Bellamy found his life to mean very little, his impact not to be felt as he continued to shrink away, hoping violence would not find his own hands as a tool. This time, he was to protect Boris Kovrov ━ bodyguard, but he knew the fine print of the job too well. There was no easy way out, there was no avoidance strong enough that could be twisted into redemption. ━━ Signore. ━━ he called out, the Montague headquarters doing nothing to ease the gnawing tension inside of his rib cage. There was a frown perched on his face instead of the usual, tender smile ━ he was a man of his word, and he’d do his job right. But at what cost? ━━ Do you have everything set for today?