Semblance

Semblance

Part 5 of the “Call Out My Name” series

Warning: None

Author’s note: 2 flashbacks because i love you guys 🥰 -samantha 🖤

Translation: 1. “Snova” ↠ Again 2. “Ulichnaya krysa” ↠ Street rat 3. “Prosti menya, lyubov’ moya” ↠ Forgive me, my love.

Credit to gif maker/owner.

You fired twelve rounds. All hitting the center of the target perfectly. One clean, crisp hole was the only imperfection on the paper. You reloaded and repeated the same act with your opposite hand.

“Snova!” The director commanded.

Like a robot, you reloaded your firearm quicker than lightning and fired another twelve rounds with each hand. Today was observation today, in which a couple of adjudicators would observe each student through a series of tests. Through this, they will be able to determine who is ready to move on from the Ruska Roma and serve the high table. Little to yours and his knowledge, the high table was secretly in pursuit of you and Jardani. For your skill set, yes. But you? There were other motives. The Tarasov’s were rising in power, but not quite there yet. Viggo Tarasov had a son, Losef. Viggo was eagerly seeking out suitors for Losef to ensure that when it was time for him to step down, the familial power would be passed down into suitable hands. Losef was not disciplined nor focused, and was quite reckless. He carried out his actions with no thought behind them. The young man was stuck in his ways. Viggo thought he would need a woman to guide him. Unfortunately for you, Viggo Tarasov thought you were the perfect candidate. Strong, smart, calculated, and a killing machine. It didn’t help much that you were beautiful, and his son was a sucker for beautiful women. If he wouldn’t listen to you, all you would have to do is bat your eyelashes at him. Your classmates whispered in the halls about your unofficial betrothal. You and your lover pretended that the reality of their words didn’t sting like pouring alcohol on an open wound.

“Of course they pick her.”

“They’re powerful. She’s so lucky.”

“There are better choices in here than her. That family is going to tear her apart.”

From a far corner, Jardani pensively stared at you. He observed everything from your form, the straightness of your shoulders, how delicate your dainty hands looked holding something so dangerous, the stony gaze on your face. He tried not to worry. You both were the best in this school. He knew you were. The both of you were going to get out of here together and serve together. The high table would only make a mockery of themselves if they didn’t select two of the finest assets from the Ruska Roma.

“What are you gawking at, boy?” A gruff voice demanded rudely. One of Viggo’s men.

Jardani forced himself not to scoff. He wasn’t doing anything disruptive, and yet here this man was in his business. As much as he thought he was a threat, he wasn’t. Jardani knew that and chose not to waste any energy on him.

“Nothing.” He mouthed off. “Sir.”

The older man laughed through his nose, a smug smirk on his face.

“She is not yours for the taking, ulichnaya krysa.” The man spat. “She belongs to Losef Tarasov.”

Jardani quietly snickered, setting him on edge. He yanked Jardani’s arm, but the boy didn’t budge.

“You think I’m funny, boy? Do I look like a fool to you?” He snarled.

Jardani shrugged.

“Anyone who thinks she belongs to anyone but herself is a fool.”

“I feel like since we’ve..reunited, we haven’t gotten the chance to talk.” You said, lowering your hands from his face to the sides of his neck.

John tensed.

“There isn’t much to talk about on my part.”

“Yes, there is.” You said thickly. “You just don’t think it’s important.”

He held his hands up in defense before plopping them down on the tops of your thighs.

“Alright. Ask me about what you want to know then.”

This was your chance. You could finally get some closure. The truth.

“Did you ever really love me?” You blurted out, your voice barely above a whisper.

He looked up at you, his soft eyes sad.

“You know I did, Y/N.” He spoke just as quietly, his tone sligtly in disbelief.

“Then why didn’t you come find me?” You demanded. “You had your ticket, you could have came home any time you wanted to. You even knew I was with the Tarasovs and yet when you wanted to get out because you were gallivanting with another woman and came to Viggo, you never once thought to ask where I was?”

“Y/N-“

“And then, you came to Viggo again. You killed him and Losef. The people I was bound to. Once I didn’t have any commitment to those people, you still. Never. Tried.”

You leaped off of his lap, ripping his hands off of you and began to pace back and forth in your living room.

“I keep telling myself that I shouldn’t be angry with you. You moved on, I get it. Life doesn’t stop for anyone and years went passed before we got to where we are now. But you were so close, Jardani! I was so close to you without even knowing it, but you did.”

Your voice softened until your tears were rising back up again. You turned to face him, your broken expression mirrored on his face.

“And you still chose her.”

“Y/N…” He whispered. “I-I can’t even begin to..I can’t explain how sorry I am. I asked about you. I did. Viggo told me you were safe and that’s all I needed. I assumed you and Losef were married and okay-“

“I never married him.” You growled out. “You want to know why? Because I thought that you would come for me. I risked my entire life denying that family. I fought hard; blood, sweat, but no tears because I couldn’t cry while proving my worth to them. Proving to them that I was still a liable asset without marrying into the family because I thought I would fucking marry you!

“The least you could have done was leave Losef alive.” You spited.

You knew it would hurt him, and that’s exactly what you wanted. For him to feel the pain you felt all these years.

“Maybe I could’ve married him. Hell, maybe I could’ve fallen in love with him. But no, when you move on, it’s okay. When I do? You kill the man.”

“I was grieving, Y/N!” John shouted, slamming his fists on the coffee table. “He killed the last thing she left me with! That man doesn’t know how to love, Y/N, don’t be stupid. It’s not a good look on you.”

You snapped.

Reaching for the mini handgun you kept strapped under the coffee table, you fired a shot. The bullet grazed his shoulder. Normally, it wouldn’t have done any damage, but John had forgone this usual bulletproof blazer and was left in his white button up. He leaped away from your line of fire, clutching his shoulder.

“Let me guess, all of that lovey dovey I miss you shit for me is gone, isn’t it?” He gritted out.

“Long gone.” You seethed, stalking towards him predaciously.

“Y/N.” He warned, backing up into a wall. “Don’t. Don’t make me do this.”

You snickered.

“Are you threatening me, Jonathan?” You remarked.

“Don’t. Call. Me. That.” He fumed, stepping closer to you.

You didn’t let up, narrowing your eyes.

“Then what do I call you, Jonathan? John? Mr.Wick? Baba Yaga? Liar? Traitor? Serpent?”

John aggressively yanked your shoulders and shoved you against the wall, a large hand gripping your throat tightly.

“That’s not my name. You know it’s not.” He growled.

“Do I?” You choked out. “Because I don’t know you anymore.”

Something in his eyes switched. A twinkle of despair and a dash of realization. It was true. You were strangers to each other. Life had shaped you, and experience molded you. Jardani was left in the walls of the Ruska Roma. The Y/N he leff was a distant memory.

“Let me make it up to you. Please.”

A wicked smirk carved into your features.

“I like it when you beg.” You sadistically purred. “Do it again.”

To your disbelief, John slowly lowered himself to this knees in front of you. The vice grip on your throat was gone as he clutched your hands. He looked up at you like a blind man seeing the sun for the first time. His smolder burned holes into your spirit.

“Please.” He whispered. “Prosti menya, lyubov’ moya,”

He kissed you hands desperately. A mess of mumbles, both russian and english, tumbled from his lips.

Forgive me. Please. Please forgive me. I’m sorry. You’re my heart. Forgive me.

Your hands lowered to his hair. You gripped it as he pushed your blouse up to reveal your stomach as he pressed kisses to your heated skin.

“Jardani,” You gasped.

“Please.” He whispered against you.

He began to kiss up your sternum until his lips latched on to your neck. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders and hopped up. His arms hooked around your legs, looping them around his waist.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Y/N please.” He pleased desperately.

You grabbed his face and brought it up to yours.

“Don’t do that to me again. Don’t leave me.” You cried.

“I promise, baby. I promise. I’m not going anywhere.”

At last, after decades, your lips met his.

There were many nights in which you knocked out after a long winded job. Those nights, you delved into ten to twelve hours of deep sleep. You appreciated the rare occasion in which you got decent hours of rest.

But this?

This was nothing compared to those nights.

His arms were firm and warm. His chest made for the perfect pillow. His legs intertwined with yours. You were in heaven. The best part? There was no one to stop you. It was just the two of you in your own home. No director, no instructors, no other classmates rooming next to you. The both of you were as loud as you wanted to be, there was no need to be cautious anymore. You had him back. You had your Jardani back.

His arms tightened around you as he rolled his shoulders back and pressed a kiss to your forehead. You felt his lips curve up into a small smile.

“Haven’t woken up like this in a long time,” He gruffed.

You sleepily laughed, moving his shaggy hair away from his face. You felt his hands wander lower to your hip, grazing a scar from a bullet. You got it from training in the Ruska Roma. Your partner had gotten frustrated at his own failures and out of anger, shot your hip. You had never seen Jardani so angry. He had lost all sense in him.

You fell to the floor with a yelp as the sharp pain intensified. Audible gasps and shocked remarks left your classmates’ mouthes.

“Y/N!” Jardani yelled.

He moved to step out of line, only to be stopped by the director.

“Up, Y/N.” She demanded.

Jardani eyed her in disgust.

“She’s hurt, director!”

“She is not helpless, Jardani.” She commented. “Y/N, again.”

“He fucking shot her!” He screamed in anger, launching forward and tackling your perpetrator. Chaos broke out as he landed heavy blows to the shooter’s face.

“Jardani! Back! Now!” The director yelled. “Y/N, I will not repeat myself. Up”

“No. She’s done for today.” He growled, shoving your opponent to the ground like a rag doll before making his way to you and gently propping you up.

The director was visibly seething. Her eyes, howevee, held curiosity. She saw something she had never seen before. The first signs of your relationship.

“You do not give out commands here, Jardani.” She spat.

“I do when you put people in risk. She’s training, goddamnit. Not in combat. That bastard better face some type of punishment, director.”

“Enough, Jardani!” She yelled.

He didn’t bother answering her, opting to help you stand and walk you to the infirmary. His heart clenched every time a whimper left your lips.

“It’s okay, baby. I got you. You’re done for today.”

“But-“

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll handle everything.”

“You didn’t need to do all of that, you know. The whole getting on your knees thing.” You admitted sheepishly. The display had still made you shiver.

He shook his head and stared down at you with those damn puppy eyes.

“Yes, I did. I’d crawl across the world for you on a trail of broken glass, and then back if you asked me too.” He whispered.

You craddled his cheeks fondly.

“Well, good thing I’d never make you do that. If you’re crawling, I’m crawling too.”

“Who would’ve thought this would be us now, huh?” He chuckled.

“Who would’ve thought you’d age so well? But I think I did hear your hip crack, old man.” You teased.

He kissed his teeth. “You know what?”

Before you could even open your mouth to reply, John had rolled on top of you and pinned you to the bed with his weight as he tickled you. You shrieked and thrashed wildly. The sheets fell off of you, revealing your bare forms.

“John, I’m naked!” You whined, reaching for the abandoned blanket only to be yankee back.

He buried his face in your neck and hummed, wrapping his arms around you once again and clutching you tightly to him.

“Perfect.” He moaned. “We don’t need to meet with the Bowery until noon. Come here, woman.”

Things weren’t exactly perfect, but in this moment you couldn’t seem to care. You were lost in him, and he was lost in you.

Your Jardani.

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