[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i”]she stares at the object he offers, at the way it tugs at heartstrings...

and a hand rises, fingers slightly trembling, to take it from him.

"underboss beckett, i -"

of all people? seriously?

a beat passes and she feels words clog in her throat. will he know she's lying?

"yes, i am."

does he already know what's happening?

"what're you doing here?"

deep down, she already knows the answer.

THEO BECKETT

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i”]he knows. he really knows.

her heartbeat quickens. it thrums in her chest, her ears, the space around them. can he hear it too - her panic?

"out."

she stares up at him, willing the expression to hold neutrality.

"i have some business outside of sootopolis to handle."

THEO BECKETT

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i”]the air shifts around them. she feels it in the streetlights, in the faint briny scent drifting in on a breeze.

how could she possibly lie her way out of this one?

"my life?"

she tries to look surprised but there's no use - the cat's out of the bag on this one.

still, a lie slips through her lips and it's damning.

"there's a heist that needs to be done in another city. it'll take longer than usual so..."

she glances down at the objects in her hands. they stare up at her, empty and cold in mourning of what's about to be lost.

THEO BECKETT

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i”]like a rat caught in a glue trap, she feels trapped.

”i’m leaving.”

a truth.

it feels more like gnawing at her own leg to get out of the sticky trap, but she has a sinking suspicion she will not be the one to mutilate herself…

THEO BECKETT

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i”]she yelps as her back collides with solid brick — head connecting a moment later and stars explode behind closed eyes.

and movement is futile, she quickly learns, with panicked tugs of her hands and feet.

he has her cornered and she can do nothing but watch.

”i have a feeling i’m boutta find out.”

the knife in his hand reflects the streetlights, deadly and sobering.

she waits, body stilling. is this it? will she die here? flashes of people, places, and things come in swarms, swimming in and out of the mind, and it feels like a funeral…

THEO BECKETT

[attr="class","giada"]

[attr="class","giada b"]

[attr="class","giada i”]tw: violence.

SPOILER: Click to show

as soon as knife sinks into the flesh of her cornea, she screams. it’s anguished, blood chilling against the air. blood follows and she gags, her body slumping against phantom shackles.

and despite herself, despite his knife still very much in his hand and connected to her eye, she yanks her head back as if that’ll stop this — as if that’ll undo the damage already done.

the universe is laughing at her now, she’s certain of it. blood gushes onto the ground in splatters.

she thought she could have a good life outside of rocket — an actual life instead of a cheap, stolen imitation. fate had other ideas, perhaps, for she feels it crawling in her throat: this is how it is. this is how it will always be.

THEO BECKETT