Yakuly - Yakully

⍉ 𝒫𝒶𝓈𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁 𝒞𝓇𝒾𝓂𝑒 ⍉

Cicero...

❤️ Chapter: Cicero...

❤️ Words: 1.223

❤️ Warnings: fight, cursing, mention of sex, sex, murder, blood, death, shooting, gun, shooting gun.

❤️A/N: Posting once again since tumblr hates me. But anyway, enjoy!

Do not be silly. I might even have liked Charlie, after all, he knew how to appreciate the great star and woman that I am… The problem is, he thought it was a good idea to appreciate my sister. As if she were as excellent as I am…

Cicero!

I knew I was destined for greatness from a very young age, but it all started to take on big proportions when I turned 15. Yes, my body had already started to develop more than other girls, so I attracted more attention from boys. I realized that I got some favors if I wore more revealing clothes, and I have to be honest, the feeling of power that these little moments gave me was indescribable!

My sister, Veronica, didn't have a voluptuous body, but she had charisma and charm, and she also managed a few things in her favor, just by blinking her beautiful eyes and leaning in slightly. Basic flirting.

Our father wasn't a flower that smelled, and our mother we didn't know, so I had to start working early. But no place wanted a 15-year-old girl with huge cleavage and tight skirts to work. None but "Chicago's Fire Ball". I started at the bottom, of course, but waiting tables just wasn't for me. So I soon learned to dance like the women there, I learned to sing, and then I worked my way up to the stage.

Cicero!

I had a conversation with the owner of the bar, and he assured me that if Elô, the "head" of the dancers, approved, I could be on stage. It was then that I had a brilliant idea: what could be better than one me, dancing? Two 'I'!

That day, I came home, made my sister my copy - a lesser version of me, but still similar enough - and taught her one of the choreographies that I memorized just by looking at it, adding acrobatics in the sequences. The next day we had a job.

On that day, "The Kelly Sisters" was born. Two perfect girls dancing as one. We were identical, perfectly in sync, flexible, and on top of that, we were hot. We gained fame fast, and then we were in every bar and club that called us. We slept with every man (and even women) until I met Charlie.

Cicero!

Charlie became some kind of partner and adviser. He was amazing! Hot, good-looking, ambitious, and most importantly, he was obsessed with me. He always made comments about how I was doing, and how he would like to "fuck me right". Yeah, I liked being appreciated as I should.

So we were called to perform at a big bar, and we stayed at the nearest hotel, Cícero, just until the show started. We bought drinks to celebrate, and we stayed in my room.

Veronica brought out some specialty cigarettes, and we were making the most of it. We talked about everything, which was pretty much nothing for someone sober, and Charlie kept his kisses and groping blatant and sassy.

We ran out of ice, and as we all know, I'm the real star, so I should be at least a little soberer than Veronica, so I volunteered to go to the big shed behind the building to get some more.

I put on my robe and went. It ended up taking a little longer than expected, as a group of men met me on my way, and mind you, they were fans! I shouldn't leave them thumb-sucking when they see… well when they see me! I answered them calmly, I laughed charmingly, and I let them touch me discreetly, but not deliberately, I invited them to go watch at the bar, and then I went to my room.

Cicero!

That's when I found them. Charlie and Veronica were rehearsing one of our acts, apparently number 17, the "inverted eagle".

While Charlie was sitting in the chair, with his pants down, Veronica balanced herself, with her hands on the man's thighs, head down, sucking him, while keeping her legs wide open, so that he could also suck her.

Cicero!

To say I lost my mind is putting it mildly. I slammed the door, and pushed Veronica's legs, making her fall to the floor.

"What the hell is that?!" I spit in disbelief. The ice bucket that was in my hands, soon flew towards the two, who were trying to protect themselves, cover themselves and hold on at the same time, not getting much of anything.

"Calm down Soyeon!" The bitch who shares the stage said, eliciting a snarky laugh from me.

"Calm down?! How long have you guys been fucking? Huh?!" I confess that I started screaming while throwing everything I saw ahead at the two.

"We've never…" Charlie tried to say, but it was obvious I was lying. They probably followed the stunt sequence, in the perfect order. I remembered that he carried a pistol for 'our protection', I run towards it, and as soon as I take it from his suitcase, I point it at the two, who are trying to protect themselves without success.

"Soyeon, think about it…" Once again my sister speaks, with her hands raised, but seeing her skirt falling, made me angrier than before.

"Think? Think about what? How you two were fucking behind my back this whole time?!" I ask, shocking even myself with my outward calm. My blood boiled, but my handheld was still like a rock.

"You forget that I created you. I created you." I look at my sister before continuing to speak, already deciding what needs to be done. "I made you a copy of me. A very nasty and less hot copy of me!" I let out a snarky laugh, seeing the tears roll down my sister's face, and Charlie calculating how long he had to get out of there.

Not a lot.

"I am the real attraction! I'm the one they want!" I say, unlocking the gun, watching them both freeze in place. "you've always been a setback in my life. I hope the fuck was worth it."

Cicero!

I don't know how many times I fired, but I know it was enough to get my face dirty, more than half of the room, and still draw attention from the whole hotel. I need to be quick, so I practically fly to my suitcase, stuffing all the clothes that were outside, and hiding the gun among the pieces. I put on an overcoat over my clothes, and I run out of the hotel and run to the bar where the performance was going to take place.

I never needed Veronica, and it won't be now that that fucker is going to pass me by.

I keep walking, taking some shortcuts and alleys. When I arrive, I'm late, so I can only hide the bag and wash my hands with their blood and introduce myself.

Cicero!

When I reach the backstage of the bar, I'm late, and I run so I can get on stage on cue. That's when I realize my hands are dark, dirty, and sticky.

Blood. In my hand. Veronica and Charlie's blood. They died. I killed them…

I don't have time to focus on that, so I get onstage, and I'm even sexier and hotter than ever. The audience is more receptive than ever, I can feel everything. But you can hear the sirens - lots of sirens - approaching the place. And I knew there was no more time.

I enjoyed every minute of that performance, and when I'm done, I see the cops walk in the front door, and they point those guns at me. In the end, I am taken under thousands of flashes of journalists who arrived at the bar seconds later, I may even be arrested, but I never lose a single moment under the spotlight.

Cicero!

[Transcript of Defendant's Apprehension]

I think that's enough rambling, what's your name?

Don't you know my name baby? Damn, I'm going to be upset…

Ma'am, please just tell me your name.

Jeon Soyeon, baby!

And how old are you?

But my God! Is that something you ask a lady? Where are your manners?!

Your age, my lady?

23, and if you put your sarcasm aside, we can have some fun, what do you think?

Ma'am, please cover up. Anyway, why are you being arrested?

Because I shot my sister and my husband, but don't worry, I'm harmless to you!

And what was your lady's motivation?

They both thought it was a good idea to cheat on me. Do you think it was a good idea for them to fuck behind my back, baby?

Okay, okay… how do you declare?

What do you think? Innocent. They should know better than that!

Agora eu vou precisar que vocês imaginem isso aqui comigo:

Passar uma semana cheia, sem poder ver seu noivo, Kim Taehyung por um tempinho. Então depois de dar uma olhada nos seus compromissos, ele planeja um fim de semana para os dois, em uma casa nas montanhas.

E apesar do clima estar frio, ele planeja dias super românticos. Cozinhar juntos, dançar juntos, beber um bom vinho juntos... e assim que ficarem cansados, tiram uma soneca na frente da lareira, com uma cama improvisada pelo rapaz, que dizia os maiores elogios para você:

"Linda meu amor, linda, linda"

Seus lábios passeim por seu rosto, pescoço e colo, fazendo sempre juras de amor. Seu tom grave e baixo, te fazendo tremee, e soltar doces sons para ele.

Te segurando pelos quadris, Taehyung te faz se sentar em seu colo, tirando ambas as calças e peças íntimas. Então lentamente e deliciosamente você se senta em seu pau duro, movimentando pra cima e pra baixo.

Ele não te diz, mas a visão, de ter você, com seu cabelo livre, também se movimentando enquanto o cavalga, a luz do lua criando uma espécie de áurea. Tae sentia que estava olhando para o anjo mais perfeito que já pisou na terra.

Você nem percebe o jeito que ele te olha, em um transe muito intenso. Quando você chega ao seu orgasmo, ele não demora muito para te alcançar, com o que provavelmente foi o orgasmo mais paradisíaco, dos orgasmos paradisíacos, de toda a sua vida.

Ao acordar no outro dia, você encontra um pedaço de papel, com uma música escrita, sobre fazer amor com um anjo.

⍉ 𝒫𝒶𝓈𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁 𝒞𝓇𝒾𝓂𝑒 ⍉

Cicero

(foto)

❤️ Chapter: Cicero...

❤️ Words: 1.223

❤️ Warnings: fight, cursing, mention of sex, murder, blood, death

Do not be silly. I might even have liked Charlie, after all, he knew how to appreciate the great star and woman that I am… The problem is, he thought it was a good idea to appreciate my sister. As if she were as excellent as I am…

Cicero!

I knew I was destined for greatness from a very young age, but it all started to take on big proportions when I turned 15. Yes, my body had already started to develop more than other girls, so I attracted more attention from boys. I realized that I got some favors if I wore more revealing clothes, and I have to be honest, the feeling of power that these little moments gave me was indescribable!

My sister, Veronica, didn't have a voluptuous body, but she had charisma and charm, and she also managed a few things in her favor, just by blinking her beautiful eyes and leaning in slightly. Basic flirting.

Our father wasn't a flower that smelled, and our mother we didn't know, so I had to start working early. But no place wanted a 15-year-old girl with huge cleavage and tight skirts to work. None but "Chicago's Fire Ball". I started at the bottom, of course, but waiting tables just wasn't for me. So I soon learned to dance like the women there, I learned to sing, and then I worked my way up to the stage.

Cicero!

I had a conversation with the owner of the bar, and he assured me that if Elô, the "head" of the dancers, approved, I could be on stage. It was then that I had a brilliant idea: what could be better than me, dancing? Two 'I'!

That day, I came home, made my sister my copy - a lesser version of me, but still similar enough - and taught her one of the choreographies that I memorized just by looking at it, adding acrobatics in the sequences. The next day we had a job.

On that day, "The Kelly Sisters" was born. Two perfect girls dancing as one. We were identical, perfectly in sync, flexible, and on top of that, we were hot. We gained fame fast, and then we were in every bar and club that called us. We slept with every man (and even women) until I met Charlie.

Cicero!

Charlie became some kind of partner and adviser. He was amazing! Hot, good-looking, ambitious, and most importantly, he was obsessed with me. He always made comments about how I was doing, and how he would like to "fuck me right". Yeah, I liked being appreciated as I should.

So we were called to perform at a big bar, and we stayed at the nearest hotel, Cícero, just until the show started. We bought drinks to celebrate, and we stayed in my room.

Veronica brought out some specialty cigarettes, and we were making the most of it. We talked about everything, which was pretty much nothing for someone sober, and Charlie kept his kisses and groping blatant and sassy.

We ran out of ice, and as we all know, I'm the real star, so I should be at least a little soberer than Veronica, so I volunteered to go to the big shed behind the building to get some more.

I put on my robe and went. It ended up taking a little longer than expected, as a group of men met me on my way, and mind you, they were fans! I shouldn't leave them thumb-sucking when they see… well when they see me! I answered them calmly, I laughed charmingly, and I let them touch me discreetly, but not deliberately, I invited them to go watch at the bar, and then I went to my room.

Cicero!

That's when I found them. Charlie and Veronica were rehearsing one of our acts, apparently number 17, the "inverted eagle".

While Charlie was sitting in the chair, with his pants down, Veronica balanced herself, with her hands on the man's thighs, head down, sucking him, while keeping her legs wide open, so that he could also suck her.

Cicero!

To say I lost my mind is putting it mildly. I slammed the door, and pushed Veronica's legs, making her fall to the floor. "What the hell is that?!" I spit in disbelief. The ice bucket that was in my hands, soon flew towards the two, who were trying to protect themselves, cover themselves and hold on at the same time, not getting much of anything.

"Calm down Soyeon!" The bitch who shares the stage said, eliciting a snarky laugh from me.

"Calm down?! How long have you guys been fucking? Huh?!" I confess that I started screaming while throwing everything I saw ahead at the two.

"We've never…" Charlie tried to say, but it was obvious I was lying. They probably followed the stunt sequence, in the perfect order. I remembered that he carried a pistol for 'our protection', I run towards it, and as soon as I take it from his suitcase, I point it at the two, who are trying to protect themselves without success.

"Soyeon, think about it…" Once again my sister speaks, with her hands raised, but seeing her skirt falling, made me angrier than before.

"Think? Think about what? How you two were fucking behind my back this whole time?!" I ask, shocking even myself with my outward calm. My blood boiled, but my handheld was still like a rock.

"You forget that I created you. I created you." I look at my sister before continuing to speak, already deciding what needs to be done. "I made you a copy of me. A very nasty and less hot copy of me!" I let out a snarky laugh, seeing the tears roll down my sister's face, and Charlie calculating how long he had to get out of there.

Not a lot.

"I am the real attraction! I'm the one they want!" I say, unlocking the gun, watching them both freeze in place. "you've always been a setback in my life. I hope the fuck was worth it."

Cicero!

I don't know how many times I fired, but I know it was enough to get my face dirty, more than half of the room, and still draw attention from the whole hotel. I need to be quick, so I practically fly to my suitcase, stuffing all the clothes that were outside, and hiding the gun among the pieces. I put on an overcoat over my clothes, and I run out of the hotel and run to the bar where the performance was going to take place.

I never needed Veronica, and it won't be now that that fucker is going to pass me by.

I keep walking, taking some shortcuts and alleys. When I arrive, I'm late, so I can only hide the bag and wash my hands with their blood and introduce myself.

Cicero!

When I reach the backstage of the bar, I'm late, and I run so I can get on stage on cue. That's when I realize my hands are dark, dirty, and sticky.

Blood. In my hand. Veronica and Charlie's blood. They died. I killed them…

I don't have time to focus on that, so I get onstage, and I'm even sexier and hotter than ever. The audience is more receptive than ever, I can feel everything. But you can hear the sirens - lots of sirens - approaching the place. And I knew there was no more time.

I enjoyed every minute of that performance, and when I'm done, I see the cops walk in the front door, and they point those guns at me. In the end, I am taken under thousands of flashes of journalists who arrived at the bar seconds later, I may even be arrested, but I never lose a single moment under the spotlight.

Cicero!

[Transcript of Defendant's Apprehension]

I think that's enough rambling, what's your name?

Don't you know my name baby? Damn, I'm going to be upset…

Ma'am, please just tell me your name.

It's Jeon Soyeon, baby!

And how old are you?

But my God! Is that something you ask a lady? Where are your manners?!

Your age, my lady?

23, and if you put your sarcasm aside, we can have some fun, what do you think?

Ma'am, please cover up. Anyway, why are you being arrested?

Why I shot my sister and my husband, but don't worry, I'm harmless to you!

And what was your lady's motivation?

They both thought it was a good idea to cheat on me. Do you think it was a good idea for them to fuck behind my back, baby?

Okay, okay… how do you declare?

What do you think? Innocent. They should know better than that!

I'm speechless...this won't gonna leave my head, like ever.

ZIPPER

PAIRING: minho x fem!reader GENRE: smut. fluff. established relationship. CONTENT: 18+ only. shy reader. marking. desperation. mutual obsession. unprotected intercourse. biting. body worship. overstimulation. mention of violence. oral (m. rec). WORD COUNT: 4.3k

NOTE: yeah it’s my birthday tomorrow and i wrote this as a gift to myself. @lino-nyangi​ and @tasteracha​ encouraged this. no other comment at this time.

SUMMARY: when your boyfriend asks you what you want for your birthday, only one thing comes to mind. you want to dress him in an outfit of your choosing.

You’re backed up against the wall when the door opens, mentally preparing yourself for seeing him in the outfit you’d picked out. He’d laughed as you’d explained what you wanted for your birthday, eyes on the floor at the embarrassment of it all. You wanted to go out and pick an outfit and have him wear it for you. He only ever wore baggy pants, t-shirts and hoodies. You love him in whatever he wore but he never showed off all the work he’d put in at the gym. Despite his relentless teasing at your request, he’d agreed. Of course he agreed. He always did. He might act like everything was the biggest inconvenience he’d ever faced in his life, but he hadn’t turned you down once since you’d been together. You’d learned that’s just how he was. He never wanted anyone to know how much he cared. 

He looks up at you the moment the bedroom door shuts behind him, tugging his pants up his waist a little. You press your lips together as he looks at you expectantly. 

“Well?” he prompts.

Continuar lendo

⍉ 𝒫𝒶𝓈𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁 𝒞𝓇𝒾𝓂𝑒 ⍉

Julgamentos

❤️ Capítulo: Julgamentos

❤️Palavras: 343

❤️Avisos: Nenhum :)

Os anos 20 em Chicago foram repletos de jazz, fumaça e sangue. Hoje em dia, a história final dessas moças, terminaria de modo bem diferente, provavelmente elas seriam crucificadas não somente pela corte, mas também pela opinião pública, mas nós anos 20, as coisas eram diferentes...

  É de se imaginar, que mesmo confessando seus crimes, elas fossem mulheres presas, mas elas eram mulheres inteligentes e entendiam, que se soubessem como fazer um show, estariam bem, no final das contas. No final, todas (ou quase todas, soberano muito bem como se aproveitar do sexismo da época.

  Com o advogado correto, roupas puritanas, mas com decote e tamanho suficiente pra mostrar seus atributos, tudo o que o júri enxergava, eram espetáculos. Afinal, essas mulheres não seriam capazes de matar alguém de verdade, certo?

  E mesmo que em sua maioria, fossem estrangeiras, e que a sociedade estadunidense da época, realmente não fossem os mais hospitaleiros, apenas uma das garotas acabou na forca. A falta de compreensão na comunicação, em todas as etapas, Shuhua foi declarada culpada.

  Mas que crueldade! Que mundo injusto! A inocente, morta, cruelmente, enquanto verdadeiras milindrosas saiam com homens e mais homens aos seus pés!

  Quanto a Soyeon, teve o melhor dos desfechos... Quando outra mulher foi presa, criaram uma inimizade, que logo se tornou parceria e amizade. Sedentas por fama e mais fama, criaram um espetáculo inteiro sobre suas histórias e passaram o resto de suas vidas, sob os holofotes, e todo o tipo de luxúria que o dinheiro poderia comprar.

As outras, não tinham muito a ganhar ficando onde estavam, portanto, algumas viajaram, se mudaram, e até se casaram novamente. Seguiram com suas vidas, como pessoas muito conhecidas (poderia até usar a palavra celebridade, mas não acredito que seja o termo mais adequado para a situação).

Portanto, te pergunto: a justiça é mesmo cega? Seriam essas mulheres erradas, por usar sua sensualidade e enganar os homens, em nome de sua liberdade? Até quando as mulheres serão vistas como indefesas? E por fim, seria a paixão, o sentimento mais mortal da humanidade?

F I M

⍉ 𝒫𝒶𝓈𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃𝒶𝓁 𝒞𝓇𝒾𝓂𝑒 ⍉

Lipschitz!

❤️ Chapter: Lipschitz!

❤️ Palavras: 1.057

❤️ Warnings: Xingamentos, traição, menção de sexo, assassinato

  Alvin Lipschitz é o homem perfeito! Desde o começo do nosso relacionamento, eu soube que era ele. Nós saímos em encontros, ele me mandava flores, cartões, me dedicava músicas... O Sr. Lipschitz sempre foi muito sensível.

  Meus pais sempre o amaram, talvez mais do que eu. Então quando nos mudamos, minha vida virou um mar de rosas. Alvin fazia artes durante o dia, e cuidava da casa, por isso não se importava muito comigo trabalhando. Sempre que eu chegava em casa, além de ter tudo pronto para relaxar, ele sempre me fazia alguma surpresa especial. 

Lipschitz!

  Mas eu sabia também que as vezes ficar em casa, procurando inspiracao nas mesmas tintas e buracos na parede, era quase um martírio para ele, então não julgava, quando ele precisava de um ar, mesmo que de noite (e mesmo que ele voltasse fedendo a whisky depois).

  Algumas semanas eram horríveis, Alvin ficava irritadiço, levemente agressivo e mal encostava em mim. Mas então, como num passe de mágica, ele voltava a ser o doce e apaixonante Alvin Lipschitz que amo e casei.

Tudo ia bem, até ouvir uma das minhas colegas conversando sobre um cara com quem sua prima tinha saído. Aparentemente ele era alto, moreno, boa pinta, e um artista, que gostava de se apresentar como L. A.

  Não que fosse uma prova concreta de alguma coisa, mas seria muita coincidência de que um homem parecido com meu marido tivesse um encontro com uma mulher, justamente no dia em que ele não voltou pra casa no mesmo horário de sempre.

Tentei deixar aquilo de lado, mas continuei a tentar ouvir qualquer fofoca que ela contasse sobre o tal cara, e também tentava jogar pegadinhas para ver se algum caía, mas nada.

"Querida, se você tem alguma desconfiança, deve você mesma ir atrás disso!" Minha mãe murmura me servindo uma xícara de chá. Nós estávamos almoçando juntas no sábado, enquanto Alvin e papai saiam pra fazer não sei o que juntos. "Mas você acha mesmo que Alvin seria capaz de algo?"

"Não sei mamãe..." E realmente eu não sabia. Alvin era perfeito, como ela mesmo remarcou naquele dia, sempre me trazia presentes, lembrava das datas importantes, me apoiava, fazia surpresas românticas... Mas às vezes ele parecia ser perfeito de mais, e quantos homens "perfeitos" eu já não presenciei acabando com todas as suas relações perfeitas?!

  "Acho melhor deixar pra lá, meu amor. Alvin é perfeito, e te ama, quase  tanto quanto eu"

Eu deveria ter deixado pra lá.

Lipschitz!

Depois daquele final de semana, tudo voltou ao normal em casa, até Alvin ficar irritadiço mais uma vez. Dessa vez ele pintava um quadro de um bairro qualquer, sob o luar, com alguma silhuetas distorcidas. Sob minha visão ignorante, aquela pintura estava perfeita, mas de acordo com ele, ainda não estava perfeita o suficiente, não imprimia a impressão "da Chicago boêmia de 1920". Tudo por conta de uma matéria de jornal.

Naquela noite fui ainda mais solícita, sorri e o servi como nunca. A única diferença, foi que dessa vez tentei fazer com que ele ficasse, com a desculpa de que "meu corpo sentia sua falta", mas Alvin apenas sorriu acariciando meu rosto, me garantindo que iria me compensar no dia seguinte. E então ele se foi, porta a fora.

Vesti um sobretudo e então o segui, cuidadosamente, me lembrando de um guia que li essa semana.

Lipschitz!

A rua em que meu marido entrou, era a mesma que ele pintava, por isso foi tão fácil pra ele pintar o cenário. Até os carros estavam nos exatos mesmos lugares que no quadro. Idiota.

Não muito a frente, na mesma rua, um grupo de mulheres pouco vestidas se aproximaram dele, visivelmente e audivelmente se mostraram felizes em o ver. Me escondi atrás de um grande carro, escutando suas vozes esguaniçadas:

"Alvin querido! Por que sumiu?"

  "Eu e minhas duas meninas aqui sentimos sua falta!"

"Ruth por favor, hoje ele vai matar as saudades comigo!"

  Seus nomes aparentemente eram Ruth, Gladys e Rosemary. Eram bonitas, não podia negar, mas elas eram mulheres da vida. E Alvin era meu marido. Ele as respondia, claramente feliz com a atenção, mas não parou pra falar com elas. Naquele momento meu sangue gelou, será que entendi tudo errado? Não pode ser possível...

Na esquina, Alvin encontrou a silhueta de um homem, e ambos sorriram um para o outro, como amigos de longa data. Nesse momento senti que tinha duas opções: continuar a segui-lo; ou voltar para casa e viver em um estado de ambivalente, onde tudo o que sei é que meu marido veio até uma rua que pintava...

Continuei seu caminho.

Lipschitz!

Os dois homens se escondem nas sombras do bordel, e não demoro muito para perceber que estão se abraçando...e então se beijando.

Meu mundo para e roda. Estou vendo meu marido beijar outro homem. Alvin Lipschitz, que me jurou amor eterno, que me fez a mulher mais feliz do mundo, estava beijando outro homem.

Não penso em minhas próximas ações, quando dou por mim, estou andando em sua direção gritando seu nome, para chamar sua atenção.

Lipschitz!

  Ao se virar, vejo a surpresa em seus olhos, e isso me trás ainda mais raiva. "Então é aqui que vem, para se achar?" Zombo dele, me aproximando. O empurro fortemente contra a parede, ainda gritando com ele.

Alvin me empurra contra um carro, me fazendo atingir uma janela, e a quebrando. Seguro um pedaço de vidro sob minha mão.

"Acho que entramos em uma divergência de opiniões, querido"

Digo antes de o atacar, cravando o vidro em seu pescoço, e pela quantidade de sangue voando, acertei sua jugular. O vejo se esmurrir em sangue, morrendo, como morreu meu amor.

Lipschitz!

[Transcrição da Apreensão da Ré]

A senhora deseja mais um lenço?...Tudo bem, nós vamos começar, seu nome?

Miyeon. Cho Miyeon.

Qual sua idade?

Tenho 25 anos

Por que a senhora foi presa?

Eu matei meu marido.

E qual a motivação da senhora?

Por que eu o amava de mais, mas ele me traía...e no final, nós tivemos visões divergentes...

Visões divergentes?

Ele se via um homem vivo, e eu, como um homem morto!

Tudo bem então... como a senhora de declara?

Inocente. Pode até ter sido um crime, mas um crime cometido pela paixão... Não é um crime, é?