восемь. let her go
" and i still would "

"I THOUGHT I WAS going straight when I joined the FBI. Guess I was wrong."

Valentizina sat opposite Spencer on the perfectly made, white bed, both of them cross-legged. Beside her was a rather wet towel that she had used to dry off her hair she washed. Yet gripped in the palm of her hand was a tiny figurine of a ballerina that she kept in her pocket of every jacket she wore. His eyes were fixated on the tiny ballerina, yet once he heard her breathe in, his eyes flickered up to her glossy green ones.

"Before I became SSA Alianovna, I made a name for myself as the Winter Soldier," she began, "I was just a five year old who got dragged into something I couldn't get out of. I was taught how to kill. I was taught to manipulate, hurt, shoot a gun and outsmart. I was taught how to de-attach myself from kills. I was taught discipline. And I was taught how to be anyone but myself.

I killed whoever they wanted me to. I thought I knew what I was doing. I was brainwashed. Cuffed to the bed. Locked in rooms. Starved. I was an experiment. A killing machine to wipe out the criminals in their eyes. The rapists. The abusers. The murderers.

I've got red in my ledger. I'd like to wipe it out. So here I am, in the FBI, standing in the midst of people who I can't catch up with. People who have everything figured out. And I stand, confused, not knowing what to do. But you come along. And Derek comes along. And it seems that maybe, I've got the hang of this. Maybe I can turn my wrongs into rights.

But it seems like there's too much red to wipe out. And now, it's all coming back in a wave, ready to drown everyone. And I want you to know that I'm going to try everything in me to never let that red touch your hands."

Spencer shook his head in confusion. He watched upon the broken face of Valentine's, and deep into the ready green eyes that seemed to be welling up.

He should feel something.

He should feel disgusted. For sitting opposite a murderer. But he didn't.

He didn't feel any of that.

His heart remained the still, steady beat as before. And it was as if nothing changed. Because to him, it didn't.

"What are you trying to say?" Spencer quietly asked, gulping.

"Spencer, answer me honestly. If it was down to me to save your life, after everything you know now, would you still trust me to do it?"

"I did," Spencer answered.

Valentizina's eyes fell down to the figurine, nodding.

"And I still would. I always will."

Her head shot up, her eyebrows furrowing, lips parting. For a split second, her lips stretched into a short, tiny smile but returned back into a confused facial expression, shaking her head.

"Why?" her weak voice questioned him.

"It's not your past who defines who you are. It's never your mistakes who define the person you are. It's how you deal with them that do. And you Valentine, fought back."

He knew her past. Her sins. Her dirty deeds. And it didn't change a thing. And Spencer knew that Valentizina wasn't a perfect human, but simply a good one.

Valentine's lips stretched into a small, sad smile, eyes flickering down to his hand. She let out a shaky breath, but she reached out for Spencer's left hand, gently pulling it closer to her. Her soft grip on his hand made him look down at their touching hands - taking him back to the day where they had first met. Where she was guarded. Where she wouldn't touch anyone. Wouldn't even come close to anyone like she was with Spencer right now. She placed the figurine of a redheaded ballerina into the palm of his hand, intertwining their fingers together, looking up at him.

"Spencer, I need to leave."

"I know."

"And I'll be back. I promise that I'll be back. But someone wants me dead. And if I stay, I risk everyone-"

"I know," Spencer whispered, nodding his head.

Valentizina breathed out, letting go of his hand and immediately swinging her legs over the bed, closing her eyes and standing up. Yet he was quick to do the same, but his hand returned to grip hers, making her look up at him.

Valentizina was hunted. She was in danger of being killed. And if they don't find her, they'll find the people who she admits, she does care about. And so she needed to put a stop to it and do whatever it takes. Whether it meant killing every single last assassin in that academy, whether it meant killing her own mother again, whether it meant sacrificing herself. She'll do whatever it takes to make sure her past doesn't decide the fate of innocent people.

"I don't want you to get hurt," Spencer quietly spoke.

"And I don't want you to get hurt either. That's why I'm going."

But she couldn't stay any longer.

Valentizina leaned in towards Spencer, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. Her cold lips lingered on his skin for a while longer, making him close his eyes, fighting back the urge to say anything. To do anything. She needed to leave. He knew she did. That's why Valentine whispered.

"Don't look back, Spencer."

And her hand slipped away from Spencer's, leaving the ballerina figurine in his hands, leaving his house, while he left the safety of his own life in her hand. He loved her, so he let her go.

If you really think the next chapters of valentizina are going to all be sad, then you're wrong.

it'll be comedy gold. apart from the next chapter, yeah sorry, that'll fucking hurt like a bitch...

anyways, here's an edit of valentine and spencer to make up for the pain

you can also watch on my Instagram @romanrova