You're two years old. Your brothers both got new nannies this year and Roman's speaks another language. The two of them talk together in rapid syllables neither you nor Kendall understand but they seem happy. They're the only ones who talk to you. They call you Princessa in private but just Princess in front of everybody else. Kendall laughs or yells when they do. Your oldest brother visits on the weekends and he calls you Lovely and Honey and Pinkie when he sits you on his lap and reads you a picture book. They're the only picture books you ever see. Sometimes when the weather is nice you want to go outside but you could get mud on your clothes and it's better for everyone if you stay in your stroller while Roman picks the grass out of the ground. Sometimes Roman doesn't come to dinner and your dad never asks where he's gone. You cry a lot because no one notices you unless you scream.
You're five years old. Kendall hates you and Connor doesn't come on the weekends anymore. You want to cut your hair short like the boys but when you ask Dad his face turns red and he yells for so long that he needs three glasses of water when you're done. Roman sinks so far in his seat you think he's trying to disappear. You don't ask again. You tell your nanny though, because you have your own now that Kendall needs so much help and Roman needs so much attention, when she's putting bows on your pigtails that match your dress. She says you'd look good with short hair and maybe when you're older you can cut it to your shoulders. That doesn't feel short enough. At the end of a loud summer you have new clothes in your closet and your nanny tells you that you're going to start school tomorrow. You talk to your dad. He tells you that at school, everyone will call you Siobhan. You ask him why because your name is Princess. He says it's not. You ask if your name is Siobhan. He says no. You ask him what your name is and he says you haven't earned it and that if Roman calls you Princess again he'll be mad. You remind Roman six times that night so he doesn't make Dad upset. Kendall calls you Siobhan now, but he says it like an insult. After your first day of school, Connor picks you up and takes you out for ice cream. He calls you Shiv. He buys you a new toy on the way home for being so brave at school.
You're eight years old. The dress you're wearing is new and scratchy and came in a plastic bag on a hanger. Roman is graduating elementary school today. Kendall isn't there. Connor and Dad and Roman's nanny are. You haven't ever spoken to your mom. Everyone claps for Roman and your dad leans down to tell you how smart your brother is and that he's going to do great things. He asks you if you're as smart as him yet. When you go to the bathroom after the ceremony you want to break the mirror and scream for hours. Instead you cry for three minutes, timed on your pink watch, and then wipe the makeup off your cheeks that you never wanted to wear in the first place. Kendall is weird at dinner and you don't see Roman for the rest of the night.
You're nine years old. You won the school spelling bee. You did even better than the fifth graders. Even though you reminded your dad and your brothers, only Connor came and he hugs you afterward and tells you how proud he is. Your teacher asks if he's your dad and he says yes and you don't correct him. She tells him how proud of you he should be and says something about skipping a grade, but he tells her no. He checks you out of school early and helps you take out your braids in his car. If there's anything in the world you want, he says, tell him and it's yours as a prize for doing so well. You ask him to take you to get a haircut and he does. Your hair is cut to just above your shoulders and Connor tells you how grown up you look and your head feels so much lighter that you're dizzy with it. He drops you off at home and Dad takes one look at you before sending you to your room for the night. Roman brings you your dinner.
You're ten years old. Your brothers are gone all the time because they're doing work for Dad, and you haven't spoken to Connor in a year because Connor doesn't like that they work. Roman has nightmares and won't look at you. He says that you shouldn't work in the family business. It's Christmas, though, and your dad's biggest present to you is telling you what that business is. He tells you about what Kendall did last week and rolls his eyes when you gag. He gives you your first glass of champagne at dinner and gives a toast to all the guests about how proud he is of you and Roman. You steal some of Kendall's drugs and try to smoke out the bathroom window but it makes you throw up and you cry until someone comes to find you. It's a friend of Dad's. He has round glasses and a kind face, and he takes you by the hand to your father's office. He talks about your brothers and reaches into the skirt of your dress you've never worn. When he leaves you're crying again and your dad yells at you for being weak and stupid when he finds you like that. You call Connor from Kendall's phone and no one answers.
You're eleven years old. Kendall hasn't been home in a month and you're getting worried. Some of your friends have had their first period and they're starting to look more like women than children but you haven't yet and you're terrified of failing at this too. Your teachers give you harder assignments and tell you you're smart enough to do great things, but you'll never be as smart as Roman. He speaks three languages and makes friends with everyone he talks to, even yours when you bring them home for sleepovers. They care more about him than you. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, Roman comes into your room and lays with you. You rest your head on his chest and he calls you Princess and tells you about the books he's been reading. You ask him where Kendall is and he doesn't know. He hasn't grown in a year. He smells like cigarette smoke too, beneath his offensive cologne, but you don't say that because it would hurt his feelings and the middle of the night is the only time you're nice to each other. You ask him why Dad won't tell you your name and he says that Dad didn't give you one when you were born.
You're fourteen years old. Your dad cares more about Kendall's friend Stewy than you. You still haven't had your first period. Roman graduated high school Iast year and he's gone a lot too, but not as much as Kendall. You just want your family to take you seriously. No one ever tells you anything, and they rarely talk to you. Sometimes you see Dad's friend at dinner parties where the boys talk after you're dismissed and he smiles at you in a way that makes you want to die. You don't look like other girls your age. They look older than you. They're intimidated by you anyways because you've found yourself getting mean because at least there, someone is lower on the totem pole than you, and you're smarter than all of them anyways. Your first ever homecoming, you go with a friend and her date because no one asked you. Your friends assure you that you're pretty but intimidating. It doesn't make you feel better. Your nanny helps you pick out your dress and when you finish your makeup, Roman is in the living room with a corsage. He gives it to you and tells you how you've grown up so much, but he also reminds you in a roundabout way how stupid and immature you still are. It stings. You still smile when Kendall takes your photo, even the ones where Roman puts his hand between your shoulder blades awkwardly and shoves his other in his pocket. Your friend arrives soon after with her date and the three of you get in a limo together. You feel unwanted and alone the whole time and leave early. When you get home, there's a bottle of champagne and a vase of flowers on your dresser from your brothers. You bring the champagne to the roof where they like to sit and share the bottle the same way they share Kendall's coke. There's dried blood from the corner of Roman's mouth but he won't tell you where it came from.
You're fifteen years old. Finally, you get to sit at the table for the adult discussions because Dad thinks you're ready. You still haven't had your first period. Kendall brings Stewy and Connor flies in. Everyone knows more than you. Your dad offers your brothers to Stewy like cattle and makes him mad, so then it's just the five of you. Connor and Dad get in argument and Roman whispers that you should leave. You don't. You can't. The two of them scream at each other across the table. You learn a lot in this fight. When Kendall is gone, he's not just killing people, but torturing them, and he likes it. He doesn't read above an eight grade level. When Roman is gone, he does things that make your stomach turn. You should've just left. It takes so much effort not to cry because then you'd prove to your dad that you're not ready to hear this. Deep down, you know you're not. You have to anyway. After the fight is over, Connor hugs you and offers you a room in his house in New Mexico because it's not to late for you to get out, but you can't leave now.
You're sixteen years old. For a whole day, you worry you're pregnant, but then you remember you still haven't had your first period yet. You went on your first assignment and had a panic attack when someone pointed a gun at you. Even though Kendall was there and he kept you safe, you were still so scared and it means you're not good enough. He promises not to tell Dad. There's blood on your shirt when you get home and you just throw it away, intending to replace it, but when you try to buy a new one just like it your heart starts racing. You ask your dad what your name is. He laughs at you. Most nights, dinner is just the two of you and you talk about everything from strategy to money. It's always about work. He says that Roman didn't want to go to college so you have to, and tells you that he has connections on the Harvard admission board and you're going. You don't want to go. You agree to apply.
You're seventeen. It's your birthday. No one remembers except Connor, who has balloons delivered to you at school. When you go home, there's blood in your underwear and you panic because there's no more nannies and you never learned what to do. You look up on your phone what you're supposed to do about it and yell for a maid until one comes running. She gives you a tampon and promises to have someone buy you a box. The feeling of it makes you nauseous but it's the only thing you can do so you ignore it. You're officially grown up now. Sometimes Roman makes jokes about his job but you don't think they're jokes and you're terrified of having to do the things he does. You don't want that for him. You'd rather he suffer than you. You've been accepted on early application to Harvard for a law degree.
You're twenty. Your father tells you that you will never deserve a name. Kendall hates you and then asks you why you hate him. You didn't before that moment. Roman hasn't spoken to you in months. You rarely see or talk to Connor anymore, but he sends you postcards from the places he goes around the world, never with a return address. They're all saved in a box under your bed. Stewy invites you out to a business dinner. You put a condom in your purse and you go. Dad's friend is there. You feel sick to your stomach the whole time and reject whatever offer Stewy gives you without listening to it at all. Part of you wants to kill them. You're not brave enough. Sometimes you cry yourself to sleep at night but not that one, because crying makes you weak.
You're twenty two. When you graduate from Harvard with honors, no one comes. You celebrate by yourself in a bar, where you meet a man a little older than you with soft hands and a softer voice. He knows your dad. His name is Tom. Tom stays with you all night even when you're too drunk to stand upright and takes you home. You wake up in his bed but he's on the couch with a throw blanket over him and none of your clothes are in disarray beyond wrinkles from sleep. You leave him your number and silently slip away. He calls you the next day and offers to buy you dinner.
You're twenty seven. You're getting married to Tom today. His whole family came but you just have Connor. Connor walks you down the aisle and you ask the officiant to call you Siobhan even though you don't have a real first name. The wedding makes you sad. You call Roman and he yells at you for bothering him. He's too busy for you. You ask if he's heard from Kendall and he tells you Kendall is dead and hangs up. It's a week before you find out Kendall is not actually dead. When you see him again, he asks you who was stupid enough to marry you because you're a bitch and you don't deserve good things.
You're thirty. Tom still loves you but no one else does. Sometimes Roman calls you Princess but it's an insult now and he laughs every time your bottom lip wobbles over it. He shares a joint with you afterward on those nights, never apologizing, but no one in your family ever does. There are more scars on his hands than you remember, and there's a pink one on his face you never asked the origin of, certain he wouldn't tell you even if you tried to find out. He looks like a skeleton. You ask him if he's been eating and he says that he's fine and you're just mad that you're fatter than him. You shove his shoulder and he raises his hand like he's going to hit you in retaliation, but he doesn't follow through. The life seems to drain from his eyes.
You're thirty four. You're lonely. Even Tom hates you now and he's found solace in your weird cousin you didn't know you had until recently. Roman has something going on with your dad's favorite lawyer. Kendall holds Stewy's hand under the table. Connor stops by once every few months with a different hired girlfriend every time who tries to play sisters with you. You want to cut your hair short like her brothers again. Dad tells you that you need to get a first hand view of the underbelly of the world and makes you watch Kendall torture someone. You can't ever look at Kendall the same way again because knowing is different than seeing. You will always be the stupid, weak, unnamed baby of the family.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Characters: Billy Hargrove, Steve Harrington
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - James Bond Fusion, James Bond References, Assassins & Hitmen, Ficlet, from tumblr, Car Chase, Explosions, Steven Universe Has PTSD - Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Mentioned Abandonment Issues, mentioned childhood trauma, Billy Hargrove Has a Crush on Steve Harrington
Series: Part 6 of Harringrove Tumblr Drabbles
Summary:
Agent Hargrove aspires to be a 00 agent. They're the best of the best, and he knows he's the best - when he's not being scolded by his computer saavy partner.
When headquarters is infiltrated and compromised, it's all he can do to keep himself and his partner alive.
But his partner is more than a letter. And Hargrove must decide if he wants to be more than a number.
i feel like sme has given up on trying to understand nctzens and has just decided to cater to whatever jokes the fandom comes up with, like... a rooftop fight? sure, just give those gen zs what they want, we don't need to know why. agent!au? why the hell not, if that's what they're talking about. catboys? gotcha, start working on dna altercation right away.
moodboard by @mcuspidey will be linked very soon<3
SUMMARY: Would you do anything for the person you love?
Would you do anything for the person you lust?
PAIRING: Agent!Tom Holland x Agent!Reader
WORD COUNT: 2.7K
WARNINGS: SMUT
sub rosa: adjective and adverb. formal. happening or done in secret. directly translated from latin: “under the rose.”
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5
Part 4: Do Anything
You walked hand-in-hand with Tom on the way out the door at the end of the night, not bothering to unlink once you were out of sight as you normally did. This time, it was only for a moment when you parted to get into the car, and as soon as you sat down, you felt his hands around your waist and his lips on your neck, and as miraculous as that felt-
“We have to wait. Debrief, car ride, your apartment,” you turned and faced him, and placed a longing kiss on his lips, slowly parting. With a nod, he inserted the keys into the ignition and started the car, driving towards the agency. You could feel the vibrations of ardor radiating throughout the car, a reverberating hum that didn’t want to relent. His hand found its way to your thigh, slowly moving up, until a swift gasp brought it to a halt, a twinkle in his eye telling him that he knew what was in your future.
The debriefing was no more interesting than it had been the previous days you had spent completing your mission. A part of you had a bit of regret for having your mind so distracted on your partner instead of your work, but you had always had a knack for balance, and keeping up with your work while maintaining a...side mission was not going to compromise anything. It couldn’t. You wouldn’t allow it.
But you still couldn’t help feeling the edge that you wanted to jump over so terribly. Next to you, Tom was bouncing his leg, not something he usually did. On a normal day, he was his typical, suave self, nonchalantly navigating his way through these nightly meetings with an air of relaxation that would drive you up a wall when you first met him. His professionalism was low, with you on the opposite side of the spectrum, but tonight he appeared to be rushing through the questions, going through the motions, and eagerly trying to force the meeting to a close.
You let your hand wander over to his jittery left leg, and without being seen, you placed on his thigh, giving him a look, forcing him to relax, as if he didn’t want you to know that he was yearning to leave. You flashed him your eyes for a moment before trying to regain your focus on the agency’s director continuing to speak and set up a course of action for the days coming. It wasn’t anything new; keep observing, take note of important comments, don’t get killed, and don’t get caught.
“Oh, and Agent Y/L/N, we’ll want you to start your physical therapy as soon as you are healed to make a smooth recovery.”
“Of course,” you smiled a sickly sweet smile, just wishing that everything could wrap itself up.
“You two are free to go. Keep up the good work, we’re thankful that you two have befriended each other, it’s helped your chemistry immensely.”
Oh yes, you had just befriended him, and nothing more.
Apparently, there was more than one mission you were looking to keep sub rosa.
You were kissing him again when you got in the car again, your hands tracing the curve of his sharp jaw, and you were startled when he pulled away, taking your wrist in his hand and dragging it down. Your eyebrows furrowed, but all was explained when he pointed to the security camera placed at the perfect angle of the car. He was on the DL as well. You pecked his lips and pleasantly sat in your seat, hoping that he didn’t live too far away.
He lived uptown, about 20 minutes away, and you felt every single minute like the clock was ticking inside your chest. When he pulled into the driveway of a large, suburbian-style house, you almost laughed. It wasn’t the type of place you expected one of the world’s best agents to reside. It looked as if it belonged to a family of five, with a dog yapping and a well-used playset sitting in the backyard.
Those thoughts were shoved away as you took his hand and followed him to the doorstep. As soon as you passed through the doorway, you were pressed into the nearby wall, a lustful kiss reaching your lips as he pressed his hands into your hips. You felt yourself inhale quickly has his lips smoothly moved from your lips to your neck, trailing down to the base. He was sucking hard, an attempt to give you a hickey, but you didn’t care. It was intense the way the minute pain made you feel, and you could hardly help the small release in your vocal cords as you shut your eyes and buried your fingers into his hair.
It wasn’t long before your denim jacket had fallen onto the floor, and you were moving to the kitchen, his trajectory set on the mini island in the center of the room. You hopped up onto it, pulling his torso in between your legs, begging to feel him even closer than you had before. Now your fingers combed across his jaw, pulling him in. You desperately wanted to kiss him again, but he had other motives. Instead, he moved back to your neck, now having better access from the height the counter was giving you. He sucked, slowly, just below your ear, before trailing kisses farther down and reaching your exposed collarbone.
Your hand returned to his hair, the other delicately tracing his neck, your red fingernails clasping around the back. He smelled of his strong, character-defining cologne: Johnny’s cologne. It was a thick smell that you had only recently grown to enjoy, a safe smell, and it was all over you.
Your lips parted, “This shouldn’t be allowed, Agent Y/L/N,” his breath was hot against your neck.
“Agent Holland, you bend the rules too frequently to be saying that.”
And you were back at it, legs wrapped around his waist, sliding your shoes off and feeling them clammer onto the floor. His hands moved with grace and intelligence, an experience you had never known, sliding up the skin-tight tube top and onto your breast, a slight expulsion of air releasing from your system. His thumb was gently circling your nipple, and you were chewing on your bottom lip in utter excitement.
But it only took you a second to notice that he was in complete control, and you couldn’t have that.
You slid down from off the counter, playfully shoving him back, watching as the bulky leather jacket found its way off his shoulders. In one pull, you were able to rip the white tank from his chest, the tear of the fabric piercing the silent air that had only been filled by both of your surging breaths. His expression was of surprise, not expecting to have his clothes torn from him. He was standing bare-chested in the moonlit kitchen, the beams reflecting off the curves of his muscles in his chest and stomach, shiny with a small sheen of sweat. He was beautiful, thaumaturgic, demonly and heavenly all at once. His mussed curls had fallen recklessly across his forehead, his brown eyes tracing every inch of your body approaching him.
You were with him again now, kissing his jaw, your hand falling onto the waistband of his jeans, his member pressing into your leg.
“Hard on me already, Holland?”
“You do terrible things to me, Agent.”
“I’ve saved your life three times over, Johnny.”
“Rose, I only want to speak with Y/N, she means much more to me than you, darling.”
You felt the heat in your cheeks, your racing heart only picking up speed.
He picked you up, leaving you in surprise, throwing you over his shoulder. He was trying to take back his control, and while you wanted it back, feeling his muscles against your skin only brought more desire to your body.
He set you down inside the master bedroom, upstairs. It was a large room, a king-size bed on the back wall, a wall of windows to your right revealing a glorious view of the city you had grown up in, the lights twinkling across the star-riddled sky.
A set of arms found their way around your body, Tom’s biceps against your bare shoulders. His head settled in the curve of your neck, taking in the view with you.
“Beautiful, right?”
“You picked a great spot.”
“And an even better woman.”
A hint of a smile on your face, you turned, pressing your hand onto his bare chest, pushing him into the direction of the bed behind you. When you pushed him onto the bed, he didn’t have the same shocked face that he had when you tore his shirt, rather, he was enthused.
Everything was flowing, one move to the next, with the flow of a river, your black jeans falling to your ankles. Crawling atop him, you buried your lips back into his, his hands moving back up your legs, no longer limited by the denim fabric that it had encountered in the car. One hand on your inner thigh, one on the curve of your ass. You pressed yourself into him, the outline of your body fitting perfectly in the silhouette of his, once again feeling his erection through his jeans.
“Time for those to come off,” you said in a low voice.
“I guess it is, isn’t it?”
You unbuttoned his jeans for him, throwing them off the bed. He responded with doing the same to your shirt, leaving your chest completely bare. You had never felt the need for a bra with tube top shirts, and now it was to Tom’s convenience. He smirked, sliding his hands up your hips, brushing a strand of hair over your shoulder and slowly making his way back onto your breast.
He leaned up, burying his face in your chest, then to the inside of your breast, and finally over your nipple, sucking lightly at first. Your back arched, your hips pressing into his, a chill running down your spine.
You found your arms locked around his neck, wanting to fill any space, any crevice that hadn’t been covered. You needed to be closer to him, you needed him as close as you could get him.
You needed to feel all of him.
Taking his face in your hand, you placed a soft kiss on his lips, then shoved him back down, taking the lace off of your bottom half and tossing it aside with the rest of your clothes. Moving to your elbows, you shifted down towards his waist, taking the band of the Calvin Klein’s into your teeth and pulling them down his toned thighs.
“Are you-”
“I can stop if-”
“Are you going to ride me?”
You smirked, “You have a problem with that?”
He was rubbing his lips together, his eyes still examining you like he had only seen you for the first time, “I’ve never…”
Tom didn’t get to finish his thought, as your tongue had taken to sliding up the side of his wand, his breath hitching, a hint of a moan falling out of his mouth. You took your time, kissing his waist, his stomach, his sternum, leaving a hickey on his collarbone, spending a while at his neck, and finally returning to his sweet lips, only pausing to embrace the feeling of him inserting himself inside of you, the closure you longed for.
Starting slow, you lifted your body up with your knees, stretching your arms to feel the bareness of his chest, his toned abs like porcelain in your hands. Up and down, you bounced, each thrust a wave of pleasure in his body. When you looked down at him, his features had softened, his eyes closed, his mouth slightly open. All the tension from work had been long forgotten, tension you hadn’t even realized was there until it had vanished.
You arched back over, quickening the motion of your hips, listening for the sound of his pounding, lustful heart.
Penetrative sex had never been much help for your orgasm, and you determined that would be up to you when you get home. When Tom finished, an explosion of release and satisfaction, you fell on top of him, circling your arms around him, wanting to continue to feel his skin against yours.
“Did you…”
“No,” you mumbled, “but that’s okay.”
“What?” he sat up, bringing you with him, “No, it’s not.”
“Tom it’s really fine-”
But he had taken to kissing you again pushing your left shoulder down, so now it was you lying on your back, the feeling of his satin comforter soft against your back. Your wrists in his hands, he pinned them above your head, reinserting himself briefly, hitting the correct spot. Only, this would provide a short spot of sexual pleasure for you.
“It won’t be enough, seriously Tom, I can-”
“Say no more, love.”
He mimicked what you had done, leaving a hickey on your collarbone, kissing down your chest, kissing your hipbone, and finally, finding the magic button.
There was no stopping the audible and lengthy moan, as the feeling of his mouth on your clit sent you into a euphoria. For the first time, this was not just about your partner getting off, but you as well. Your feet on his back, he pressed on, sucking, moving his tongue in various directions, increasing the pace the louder your moans got.
Your legs were turning into jello, you felt yourself tensing, holding your breath, waiting for that feeling. A feeling no man ever had the time to give you, the tip of the roller coaster, the rush of wonderful that you wanted from Tom so badly.
It ricocheted through your body as it relaxed, the fireworks going off inside you. As you settled, you felt him suck on the inside of your legs before moving his body back to your level, pulling the sheets down, then taking you back into his arms, intertwining his bare legs with your own.
…
You don’t remember falling asleep, but when you woke, Tom’s steady breaths were brushing the back of your neck. Turning around, you buried your face in his chest, getting a strong whiff of the safe scent you had taken note of earlier. He was warm, slightly sweaty, but incredibly comfortable.
The shifting brought his eyes to flutter open, and he placed a kiss on top of your head when noticing that you had moved.
“Can I be honest with you Y/N?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“I think that I want to keep seeing you.”
Those words in that particular order almost made your heart stop. You frowned and reopened your eyes, looking up at him, his own swollen with sleep.
“What?”
“I said I think-”
“No, I heard you, but...are you serious?”
“Serious as a heart attack.”
Your heart had gone from a complete stop to a sprint all at once, and you truly had no idea what to think. You had believed him when he said that he made it clear to his former hookups that it was a one-time ordeal, but hearing this, you were second-guessing his words.
“Is that what you said to all of them?”
“All of who?”
“The entire female body of our agency?”
You felt his muscles tense against your body, “No. Why would I say that to anyone else?”
“Why were they always so upset when you never wanted to see them again?”
He let out a heaving sigh, “I haven’t felt this way in a long time, Y/N, can you please just believe me?”
It was difficult. You wanted to believe him. God, with everything you had you wanted to believe him, but there was the lasting image of the scoffs and the glares and the whispering that you couldn’t get out of your head. You weren’t sure if this was his tactic, if this was the way that he continued his long-lasting power trip.
Even with the newfound tension in the air, you still felt safe and happy being wrapped up in his arms, with no desire to leave. You wanted this to happen again. If you had it your way, this wouldn’t be the last night you spent drifting off in his arms.
“I’d like to see you again, too.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, but I’m not playing any games, Tom.”
“Trust me, Y/N, the only game we play is when we’re surrounded by criminals.”
Summary: Crossed paths of an agent and an innocent woman who had nothing in common in their lives but their attitudes against this cruel world. They both had experienced hell in heaven still been in love with this fiddling world when the sun shone upon their darkness and illuminated their holes they had been hiding in their chests for the sake of the ones they lost. Maybe that was the reason they somehow feel bonded when they came eye to eye. They saw the same loneliness in another and they realized they were sharing the same looks.
Y/N’s POV:
You drove your car restlessly as always you did. You didn't care about the traffic rules. Actually, you had already exceeded the speed limit, but who cared. You were heading to the office of that you accepted the decoration project. But before deciding what you would do for the plans, you wanted to see the office first. And the owner invited you today. The owner, you did not know much about him but your manager said he was a businessman and had lots of money. And the manager added, "You have to accept this offer Y/N." And you were going to do what the manager said.
You parked your car and took a look at the building. Took your glasses off and looked at it again. "It works." nodded softly with an affirmative voice. Then you walked slowly and entered the building as your high heels' sounds were echoed with every step you took. The men in suits greeted you and led you to the owner's office. You bowed him slightly and took a seat at his table. His men stood still behind you. You had to confess, you felt a bit insecure. The scene looked like they just come out from an action movie as if they were doing dirty jobs. But you brushed off those thoughts and focused on the business.
"Let me see what you have on your mind. I will reunite your thoughts and mines as well. I will try my best to gladden you."
"Dear Y/N,” the old man called the owner addressed on you, “My assistant will show you our plans." The owner was an old man who upheld your action movie scene. He did a hand move to have the plans and his assistant spred the papers on to the table that you two were sitting at. At that brief moment, you peeked that the assistant carried a gun on his belt which caused you to frown your brows slightly, now you were more cautious. You turned your looks onto the plans. The owner kept talking,
"But there is another thing that you have to keep it as a secret.” He spoke with his deep voice again his eyes brushing on your face to read your reaction. “I want a huge case room. But it has to be hidden." He added as leaning back on his chair now looking more like a boss.
"Okay." You nodded slowly to not protract it. "I will work on it." But you lied. Your plan was once you would leave the place you would call your manager and reject the project. That was your strict thought after being sure they were not the usual businessmen. But there was a feeling that things were not going well. You were uneasy.
Yoongi’s POV:
Morning, oh how Yoongi hated mornings, but there was never anything to do about it. He did his morning routine, showering, breakfast, a strong cup of coffee to wake up, and reading the news. The morning routine was the same even if he was away from home, well what he called home. He was living in Busan, but he ended up in Seoul for a mission. He was specially chosen for this as he was known to be as valuable as a team. After a long time of looking for this Yakuza men, he finally found him, the boss. It could be said he wasn't a real Yakuza man, he wasn't that scary but he traded drugs, so Yoongi’s mission was to end him. Dead or alive, his bosses didn't really care.
As everything was ready, he stepped out of the apartment and made his way to the parking lot. He opened the car door and sat down, looking at the files on the passenger seat next to him. He started the engine and drove off to the address that was written in the file. Some sort of apartment in the middle of an alley, a quiet alley. This was a perfect place for people like them. He parked his car and took out the handgun which laid on the seat next to him. A small grinning smile brushed Yoongi’s lips as fun was about to start.
Once he entered the building aiming his gun towards the guards, two men ran to him. He was never afraid of killing someone, definitely not that kind of people. When you worked as a police you were never really able to shoot someone, but as a secret agent it never really was a problem to kill. That would be covered up somehow.
Two men were already dead, their corps were laying on the ground as the red liquid was pooling around their torsos. He then opened the door to the hallway of the building. He shot a man in the head who was standing in front of a door, probably the door which would lead him to the boss. He kicked the door to open as he held the gun in from of him, eyeing the room quickly to see how many people were in the room. Three men, one woman. A woman?!
You pretended to pursue the plans but the truth was you were thinking a way to leave that place as soon as possible. You checked your watch and sighed.
"Oh, I am sorry. I have another meeting to catch." You started to gather your papers. "I will inform you about the plans." You said without looking at the owner's face.
"Okay dear Y/N, I know you will give me what I want. I know you are the best architect in the town."
"Best? How'd you know that I am the best?" But you covered your mouth immediately, you were taken unaware and spoke to him informally. "I am sorry, that escaped from my mouth." You sighed. You had a cozy personality that was right but you had to be careful while speaking, you reminded yourself.
The owner laughed in a fatherly manner as his the well-known godfather voice echoed in the room "That is okay Y/N, you can even call me father if you want. There is no need to be formal."
You gritted your teeth as soon as you heard ‘father’ word. "There is no need for that." Your voice was sounded rude but you didn't care about it. "So I will get in touch with your assistant about the project." was your last sentence. You were about to walk and leave but your instinct came true. The day was not going well.
Before the door was kicked, a few gunshots were sounded. You turned your looks but soon after a young man in suits with hair undercut entered the room. You caught his eyes and stayed still for a while but the eye contact then was broken because a man in the room ran through him.
Yoongi definitely didn't expect a woman to be there, hence he got a little shock. He saw a man running to him with a knife, he was able to dodge it and shot the man in both his knees, the man fell down, whining in pain. He looked like he was from an action movie. You blinked a few times to get the situation. 'Is this really happening? Or am I dreaming?' You thought when two more gunshots were heard, the young man shot the owner's security on his knees. Your eyes caught the red body fluid that was running and making a small lake on the ground. Blood. You started to breathe quickly and scenes from your past appeared in front of your eyes. Blood. Your hands covered with it. With that warm and sticky fluid. You turned your head away from him who was laying on the floor not to see it more and held your breath to not smell its disgusting scent. Even it was not close to you, you felt like you had already smelled the blood. Maybe it was just a psychological thing but you got nausea. These thoughts ran through your mind so quickly. Like within two or three seconds.
The big boss stood up and hurried his way out of an escape door, behind his table. The men who helped the big boss started his fire at him. You were just in the middle of a gunfire and were just standing there as not moving an inch. But the gun that you saw on assistant's belt was already shot through the young man.
Yoongi’s mind went back to the woman as he ran to her, he had to get her out of this place. Why did he choose to do this job alone, if he was with someone else they would have helped, he was in a big trouble as the plan was already changed.
He held up his gun and tried to shoot back, but at the same time, he was making sure the woman was not wounded. Once she was in a reachable distance, he pushed the woman close to his chest and made a shield out of himself. You couldn't help yourself but stuck to his body. 'Is he a good man?' You thought after assuming the young man was also from a mafia. But he was protecting you that meant he was a police or something, right? It had to be like this.
Yoongi kneeled down behind a desk and fired a few more shots. You embedded your head onto his chest and covered your ears. Even you didn't see anything, but you could feel how many times he shot because of his muscles twitching. When you and the young man kneeled on the floor, he was still pushing you to his body. You didn't know how long it took, but it was too late, the men and the boss ran away.
"Tch..." Yoongi sighed.
You didn't know how long it took but in the end, the owner had escaped. Maybe that young man couldn't get him because of you. Or maybe the young man would be dead if you were not there. Who knew. He let you go off of himself as he felt a pain in his arm. He was shot as trying to guard the woman. He wasn't happy at all, those bastards got away and he even got shot.
After he let you go, you lifted your head to see him clearly. A frowning face. You could say he was not pleased with the result he had. Then you realized his wound. He was shot on his arm. He touched his arm gently and whined and his hand got smeared with blood. Blood. Red sticky fluid. You held your breath again. And scenes reappeared. Blood. Bathroom. Mirror. Funeral. Your hands smeared with blood. You barely stood up, your knees were shaking but you didn't want to stay there and see that view. You walked with the support from the wall. Maybe you had to thank him or asked his name. Maybe you had to treat him a meal for saving your life. But you couldn't do that. Because your memories didn't let you do. You kept walking away as much as you could but the truth was you just left the room. Soon after you crunched on the ground as your body was trembling.
And during that moment, Yoongi just let you go and looked at his arm that was bleeding. It hurt but he still was able to move a bit around, not too much and he had to move slowly. The bullet was still in it and had to be removed soon. He took his phone out of his pocket and dialed a phone number, a colleague from his work. He was trying to reach his friend as he felt the girl slowly trying to get up. He didn't help you, his mind was too busy with himself and the person that escaped.
"Yo, they escaped... and I have been shoot. So get your ass here." Yoongi spoke huskily.
Yoongi then directly hang the phone up and laid it back in his pocket. He stood up and put his handgun back at the back of his belt. He took a deep breath as he walked out of the room to the hallway where he saw you again. He rolled his eyes, not really used to seeing someone overreacting like this. But maybe he just didn't understand what was happening to you. He was used to seeing blood and hearing gunshots because it was his job, but not everyone was ready for that kind of things.
PTSD. Posttraumatic stress disorder. That was what your doctor said to you after your mother’s decease. You couldn’t stand seeing the blood anymore. Even if it was not that big deal, and as small as a scratch, you couldn’t handle your emotions. Every time you saw the blood, same things repeated themselves. Your memories belonged to your mother’s death were revived in your mind. And that happened again, as soon as you saw that young man’s wound. And this time you had just not seen the blood, but your hands were also smeared with it.
Yoongi walked close to you as he saw you were trembling, you sure were scared of what happened. He kneeled down next to you without saying anything or giving any sign, he curled his arms around you and lifted you up, holding you in his arms. But before that, you didn’t realize his coming. You came back to reality when he lifted you up. You were still trembling and breathing irregularly but that scenes were disappeared at least.
‘Do I have to be this nice’ Yoongi thought, he stood up again and walked through the hallway of the building, making his way out.
As he was outside of the building with you, he looked up at the sky to see the blue color to calm himself, then walked to his car which was nearby and opened the front door of the car. Yoongi put you down in his car, on the passenger seat and walked to the back side of his car and opened the door, looking for something to put around his arm to stop the bleeding.
Sirens were now echoing in the streets. As you were placed on to car seat, you started to understand the situation. Your brain started to work again. Just like the movies, they were surrounded by the police and vehicles that special forces were written.
Soon as Yoongi found something, he wrapped it around his left arm. He then found a shirt which was laying in his car, he took it and walked back you kneeling down and grabbing one of your hands that was smeared with blood and started to clean it. At that moment, you turned your looks on to him. You avoided looking at his shoulder but it was obvious that he had already taken care of his wound. You tried to say something, thanked him or asked him if he was okay or not but you couldn’t open your mouth. Your hands were shaking as he was cleaning them for you.
Some police cars came into the alley with a speed and stopped. Few men walked out and ran into the apartment. A black car stopped next to Yoongi’s car, a man stepped out and walked his way towards the car you were sitting in. Yoongi let your hand go when he realized the man and left the shirt on your hands as letting you do the rest. He stood up and walked to the man. 'Jorge' was his name, a person Yoongi worked with a few times and somehow became friends with him. Jorge checked Yoongi’s wound quickly and frowned some as listening to the story about what happened and how he found you. Yoongi didn't even know your name nor what you were doing there, but you somehow looked in shock so they let you be and Jorge just kept listening. You at least weren't a bad person, they both trusted you enough to think that you were not a member of those guys.
There was no more actually blood on your hands when you sat alone in the car. But you grabbed the shirt and you tried to clean your hands more as if there was more blood on. You wiped your hands roughly and you did not realize that you were crying until a few teardrops dropped on your hand. You threw away the shirt and wiped your tears as trying to hold your sobs. Yoongi was far away from you talking to another man in suits. You gulped and took a deep breath, “You are fine Y/N. You are fine.” You talked to yourself on your mind and you started to regulate your breaths as well.
He was picking an eye on you from time to time as talking to his friend. He frowned some when he realized you were crying and he had to admit, he was not pleased with the situation. ‘Troublesome’ he thought.
After Yoongi was done talking, he walked back to you, kneeled down in front of you once again and tilted his eyes up as searching for yours in return.
"How about we go to the hospital? Checking if everything is okay with us." He offered friendly, as his voice sounded soft, trying to be as nice as possible. He was aware that you were fragile at that moment, and tried his best to not hurt you. You nodded softly to confirm him.
Yoongi stood up once again as he heard that Jorge was going to drive you to the hospital. Yoongi whose name you still did not know stepped in the backseat of the car and closed the door. While you were heading to the hospital, you rolled down the window and a light wind brushed your hair. You closed your eyes and took another deep breath as letting the wind take your aches away.
There was a deep silence in the car and you were feeling tired as the tingling sensation was moving across your body. You just stared blankly at the outside and didn’t think much as just being there.
Once they got in the parking lot of the hospital, Jorge parked the car. And two men got out of the car while you were still sitting in the car. Yoongi’s arm had stopped bleeding but it was still hurting because of the bullet, it had to be getting it out.
Yoongi asked if you would come with them or not. You darted your eyes to him and finally could speak, “I am not going in /that/ building. I’ll wait for you here.” Since you avoided seeing the blood, entering the emergency was not a good idea for you. You did not want to have another attack as still having the effects of the final one.
As he heard you saying you were not planning to go in the hospital the only thing he did was nodding his head. ‘Woman and their ego, always doing their own thing.’ The thought passed through his mind. He didn’t resist and started to walk in the hospital with Jorge.
"Do you already know something about her?" Yoongi asked and looked at Jorge waiting for some information. Jorge already knew what your name was, where you were living, what you did for a living and why you were there. He even talked to your work about what happened, so they should understand why you didn't come back to work, for a few days maybe.
Once they were inside the hospital, a doctor and a few nurses ran to them. The doctor already knew they would come and escorted Yoongi to a room as Jorge was waiting at the door. Everything went way too fast, Yoongi took off his jacket and his shirt. There were so many scratches and healed wounds since he was doing this job for a few years, so it was quite normal to have them.
After a while, you got out of the car as waiting for them. And suddenly a hand covered your mouth and dragged you through the end of the parking lot. Because you were being dragged, one of your high heels was left at your waiting spot, next to Yoongi’s car. You tried to save yourself but you couldn’t even see the face of the person.
When you were dragged next to a truck, you were pinned against it. And at that time, you saw the face, it was the owner’s assistant and now he was jumping down on your throat.
“That was you, right? You snitched about us to the police, you little slut.” The assistant hissed at you as anger was coming out from his eyes.
During that time, “I don’t want narcotization,” Yoongi uttered and the doctor nodded as knowing there was no need for trying to convince him. Yoongi gritted his teeth together as they took out the bullet, even if it wasn't the first time, it still was a painful feeling. He took a deep breath once they were done, and wrapped in his arm. The doctor said Yoongi to come back in a few days for the wound care. He nodded a few times and walked out of the room back to Jorge who stood up immediately.
"It's nothing, I am fine," Yoongi said to Jorge, giving him a reassuring expression. Jorge was a nice guy, but he attached himself too fast to people as caring for them immediately. But Yoongi wasn't like that at all, he never minded being alone and wasn't afraid of dying as well, he had nothing to lose anyway.
Once Yoongi and Jorge were outside the hospital and walking to the parking lot, they figured out you were not at the place you had to stay. Yoongi put a finger against his lips, telling Jorge to keep quiet. Something wasn't right, they looked around but weren't able to see you, but Jorge soon enough noticed the heel which was laying nearby the car. Jorge took the shoe and showed it to Yoongi. At that time, they heard something, not a female like voice, more a man, an angry man. That was it, that was the sign they were searching for. They moved their steps fast to the noise the man was making, moving around the trunk, not to get caught.
You were holding on assistant’s hand to move it away and to be able to breathe but he was squeezing too hard that you were barely breathing. Your voice scarcely heard “N-No. It was n-not m-me.”
He hit his other hand on the truck just next to your head, “I will kill you. Boss has already said the word to kill you.”
“I-It was not m-me, douchebag.” You coughed.
And when Yoongi was able to make an eye contact with you, you realized that Yoongi made a sign behind of the assistant as the meaning of ‘hush.’ You mumbled, “Come closer.” And the assistant approached his ear to your mouth.
“Douchebag.” You whispered.
Yoongi saw how the man came closer to you with his face, and that was the perfect moment. Jorge and Yoongi fasted their way to the man, Yoongi took his gun out. He wasn't going to shoot him, he still remembered how you would react from seeing blood. As he was close enough he used to the handgun to hit the man at the back of his neck, and that move made the man collapse. Jorge put him in handcuffs.
And as soon as Yoongi took care of the owner’s assistant, your body fell on the ground. You coughed a few times to regulate your breath and rubbed your neck. “Tch.. that bastard.” You cursed silently as eyeing the assistant. He squeezed your neck tight enough that you were sure that it would get bruised.
Yoongi took the heel from Jorge, kneeled down. His slender fingers wrapped around your fragile ankle and he put it on you as trying to be gentle. "You okay?" he asked as feeling sort of pity for you, that this all happened. You were the one that faced all the trouble that came this day. But Yoongi felt a bit relief to at least catch one of those guys, somehow happy as well. And this guy was way better than those other guys Yoongi had shot.
As Yoongi was putting your heel on, you had a chance to see his face clearly at that moment. Cold but a smooth face. And now his mimics showed that he was a lot happier than before. Because at least he was able to catch the assistant even the owner escaped. You were sure the assistant had enough information for them because he was the right hand of the owner. He was the one who was fulfilling the duties. And you were sure that he was doing the whole dirty works. You examined Yoongi’s face as much as you could. He tried to look irrelevant but you saw his eyes. You knew that eyes well because you also had them. He had that ‘I don’t give a shit’ attitude but, deep down, he cared, you saw that in the same eyes.
You answered his question “I am okay. He must have followed us. They thought that I was the one informed you about their location.” Your voice cracked sometimes because your throat was hurt. Your voice sounded somehow hurtful. As Yoongi looked at you, he saw how red your neck was. You cleared your throat to make it sound better. “He told me that, the owner had already said the word to kill me.” You shrugged and sighed as not wanting to deal with them currently.
This person was probably not the only one after you then, Yoongi thought. And Jorge was making a phone call to the police, and told them he was going to wait for them as eyeing and nodding Yoongi about the danger.
"Can you walk?" Yoongi asked when he started to look back at you.
“Yeah.” You stood up and patted your clothes to get rid of the dust. Yoongi was glad you were able to stand. The day started bad and it was not going well. “I wonder what will happen next. Maybe they will kidnap us and want ransom, huh?” you grouched in a low tone. You were making jokes and to be honest, not paying mind to the seriousness of the topic. You ran your hand through your hair and took a deep breath. “I want to go home.” You talked to the young man calmly.
Of course, you wanted to go home, even did Yoongi and Jorge, no one would want to stay in a day like this when nothing went as planned. He nodded his head a few times, as reacting the things you said. There wasn't much left to say about this, not for today. He wanted to go back to the car to give you a ride home. You needed some rest, the police would probably come the next day, to ask you the side of the story.
“Jorge,” Yoongi addressed on him and reached his hand out to Jorge as wanting the keys. Jorge threw the keys towards him and Yoongi caught them in the air with his fast reflexes. And at that moment, you understood that he wouldn’t let you go to the home by yourself.
Yoongi walked with you to the car and left Jorge behind, it wouldn't take long before the police were there to pick up the guy as the sirens were heard. He looked at you walking beside him, you walked good enough, no need any helps. He opened the car door for you, so you were able to get inside the car. You gave your home address to him before getting in the car. As you stepped in, he closed it and walked around the car, to the other side. He looked once back at Jorge, who was doing fine by himself and opened the door and sat down in the car. Putting in the car keys as he closed the car door and started the engine, filling in your address in the navigator. He turned on the navigator on, a soft yet low voice came up that he was still able to hear. He started the engine and drove to your house.
Yoongi focused himself on the road which made it silence in the car, not that he hated it, he never really was much of a talker. He opened the window on your side a little bit, to let the fresh air inside the car. There was silence between you but you broke it. Maybe it was the first time for them to talk. “Thank you, for saving me. Twice. I hope your arm is better now.” you mumbled. “And I am Y/N, what is your name?” His pupils moved towards the corner of his eyes, looking you sitting beside him as you started to talk.
"I got shot, of course, it isn't better now. It needs a rest for almost two weeks" He said, not in a rude or mean voice, maybe a little bit annoyed. But he sure was annoyed of the shot, now he wasn't able to do a mission for about two or three weeks. But he also knew it wasn't your fault. As he kept quiet for a while he was thinking if he wasn't a bit too rude to you, he didn't want to give you the feeling that it was your fault.
You smiled against his arrogant answer. And it was obvious that he was upset because he would have to stay away from the field for a while. He was not sad about getting a shot. The corners of your mouth slightly curled up. You more felt like yourself now, as getting rid of the effects of the attack. You wore your reckless attitude, “Calm down, I am sure other can’t pass your records when you are not around. And you should also leave the field for the others, you know.” you answered him. You understood that he was a perfectionist. It was clear because of his behaviors. You checked him to see how he reacted at you but as expected from him, he didn’t show any emotions on his face.
Silly, Yoongi thought about you, trying to make fun when there was nothing to laugh about. At least not for him, but maybe a rest was good for him. Well a rest away from the field, he still had to make reports and those things. But it was nice you tried to make a conversation with him, even if he didn't answer you, him being more focused on the road and his ears more on the radio.
In reality, Yoongi was more relieved that you were getting over the events that you had experienced that day. That meant he wouldn’t have to babysit you. He acted as if he didn’t hear your cynic expressions and answered your previous question. "Y/N, you can call me Agent Min." He never really gave away his first name, he still needed to get to know you a little bit more.
“Agent Min,” you repeated after him. “Nice to meet you.” You nodded your head. “Okay, we can talk formally each other. I don’t mind.” And you didn’t ask more. You knew that you would have enough time to talk, maybe, now was not the perfect time. And he didn't focus on you anymore, but on the road.
You rubbed your throat again and whined. It hurt. You looked at your reflection on the little mirror that is above your head in the car. It looked already red and some bruises started to appear. You grumbled “Tch…” Yoongi didn't want to look at you, but he had already found out how many times you looked at his way. He wasn't planning to, but once you touched your neck, he turned his head towards you. "Don't touch it, it will only hurt more like that." He said gently and laid his eyes back to the road. You already had enough pain and you were only making it worse with touching it. You nodded then started to listen to the music that was playing on the background. He looked at your neck again, it sure was red and irritated.
After a while of silence again he stopped the car as he had driven into an alley. "Is it here? Your house?" He turned his head to you waiting for an answer.
You confirmed him “It is there, Agent Kim. That one.” You pointed to a private house with a garden. Its walls were covered with red bricks. You were the one who drew your own house’s plan. And you were proud of yourself. Because it was your dream house. And a well-known architect like you had to have a house like beautiful, right? Otherwise, it would be awkward.
He stopped the engine as he looked around first, before stepping out of the car. The house you lived in looked amazingly nice and wasn't seen much in a country like this, it was different in a good way. He closed the car door behind him as he once again looked around the alley you were living in. It looked like a good neighborhood, it was peaceful enough and the houses were clean.
As he stopped the engine, you stepped on the ground from the car as well and closed the door gently. You were aware that he didn’t want to talk much but you couldn’t hold yourself back and asked another question again. “Have you already done your research about me, Agent Min?” You headed through your house.
"I had no time to read your file yet, but that will come soon enough." He looked at you, not knowing if you were joking or not. He didn't have any time alone yet, so how was he even able to know all your information, he didn't have a computer in his brain. He took a deep breath as he walked behind you, to the house.
You smiled at his passive-aggressive answer again. But because you were walking in front of him, he couldn't see your face. "Oh, you are right Agent Min. In the end, you don't have a computer in your brain. Just for a moment, I forgot about that." You teased him. Maybe, you shouldn't have done this but sarcasm was your way to handle the things. And today a lot of things happened to be handled. But maybe you must explain yourself to him because you didn't want to be misunderstood. "I am sorry about my sarcastic attitude. You will get used it soon, don't worry." You uttered softly. "Oh, but if you think that you can't get used to it, I will try my best and won't talk to you in a vitriolic way."
You arrived at the door of your house. And unlocked it, but before you entered the house, he stopped you from entering and pushed you behind of himself. He made you a sign not to move and you did what he said. He took out his gun and walked into the hallway of the house. Signing your to stay where you were, Yoongi looked around the house if everything was safe. He checked the rooms and came back to you, and put his gun back. "It's safe, come inside." He spoke calmly.
You walked in the house when he told you everything was okay and the house was safe. "I don't think that they will come to my house, Agent Min.” You said but you didn't know about them enough, maybe that was why you were talking couragely. You had to be more careful. They were the real bad men. You took a quick look around the house "everything is as I left." You said and led Agent Kim to the living room. More than your sarcastic attitude, he just wanted some peace. He was all tired because of the day and wanted to take a long well-needed rest, but there was still so many things to do today. He wanted to react on you, to shut your mouth, but he held himself back and didn't say anything, as if he was ignoring you.
He walked after you to the living room, the house was really amazing for his eyes. Big enough for a few more people than just one, it was obvious you did something with furniture. He walked to the window and looked out of it, into the alley. This street sure was peaceful, a nice place for older people to live or families.
And, despite the appearance of the building, inside of it was designed more modernly. And the white was the main color that was used with the furniture. Your house was tidy and everything was organized. And everything looked there was nothing as excess. There was nothing wrong within the house, everything looked fine and there were not any sign of someone 'bad', at least he thought so.
You walked through the kitchen to drink some water, your throat was still dry. Your kitchen was an open kitchen. So you could see him clearly from its view. And as you walked to the kitchen, he followed you with his eyes, he also would need some water, after all those problems, but he didn’t say anything about it. His eyes then glanced back over your house.
You took a glass and poured water in it. “They know I am with you." You spoke softly as Yoongi looked back at you as you started to talk again, he shook his head a bit.
"They don't care." He uttered and looked around the room. Those didn't care about anyone, as if they were afraid of a man named Yoongi. He was only an agent after all, not a god.
As you lifted the glass through your mouth you realized something. Your knife set on the counter had a missing piece. One knife was missing. "Everything is /not/ as I left." You said and started to think about what you did with that knife last. But you were sure you placed the knife in its place. You felt Agent Min's eyes on you. He started to pay attention to you as soon as he heard you. As he caught your eyes, he felt something was wrong, you somehow looked stressed, and as if something was going to happen. Yoongi was still looking at you but felt it was more because of your neck, that it was hurting while drinking, he didn't think much of it. So he took his eyes off of you and looked back around the room once again.
You gulped, something was wrong, you started to feel uneasy. And at that moment, a reflection on your fridge which was one side of you budged. You did not move your body but looked at the shiny hatchway of the fridge. There was someone behind of you and he was holding the missing knife. That bright knife can be seen clearly on the reflection.
He had already lifted the knife and walked towards you silently. Your heart started to beat faster, you tried to think. How should you call Agent Kim? Should you throw the glass that you were holding? But whatever you would do, you had to be quick, there was no more time left.
Suddenly, that man yelled and ran to you. You spun around yourself to escape and you did. The knife was stuck on the counter, as the man tried to free it but he couldn't. Yoongi’s peace got disturbed and his eyes widened by the yell of the man. He turned his head in speed to the kitchen again, seeing how the man was trying to get the knife out of the kitchen counter.
You grabbed a pan which was on the stove and hit his head with the pan. But as soon as you hit, he stole the pan and threw it to the floor. You screamed and ran to the other kitchen door which led you to your backyard. He chased after you and tried to catch you. Yoongi saw how you ran away from the man, and how the man followed you. Why did you have to run to the other way and not to Yoongi, this only caused more trouble. He took out his gun once again, he never had touched it some many times in a day. He ran after the two, through the door to the backyard. This place sure was big, maybe a bit too big.
But because you were wearing high heels, you couldn't run fast. The man grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards himself before jumping on to your throat. You tried to run away but you were weak against him. You then lost your balance and fell into your pool with him. Despite you two were under the water, he was still squeezing your throat, and that was why you were about to lose your breath.
Once Yoongi was standing in the backyard, he saw how both of you and the man were in the pool. He focused on the man who was trying the take away the breath of you. He hadn't much time to think, you two were squirming too much, hence it was difficult to make a clear shot. But he had to, jumping into the pool wasn't a good idea.
Your vision started to be blurred. You moved your lips with the last energy you had. You were not heard in the water, but you mumbled anyway "A-Agent Ki-Kim."
Only a few seconds passed as a loud gunshot was heard in the backyard, birds flew away and started whistling in panic. The pool started to be covered with red as the grip of the man became looser around your neck. "How many more of them are there?!" Yoongi howled in anger as getting that the situation was more serious than it seemed. You were in danger, and it was because of Yoongi. He put you in danger starting the operation without knowing that you were in the building and, now all of this was happening to you.
It was not clear hence you were not sure if you really heard the shot or it was just an illusion that your brain made. But soon after, the pressure on your throat was gone. You opened your eyes slightly. Red. You couldn't see anything but red. Was it your death? Was death something like that? But it was always told that you would see some white light when you were dead. Was that a lie? You felt like you were suspended in the space. But the truth, your body was collapsing through the depth of the pool. You couldn't move your body at all. Because your body was trying to use its last bit of energy to stay yourself awake, moving your limbs was not the priority for the moment.
Yoongi threw the gun a bit away from himself and jumped into the water. He saw you were not moving and knotted his brows for a second as trying to get you. He then managed to grab you close to himself under the water.
Your time sense was failed. You perceived the seconds as like they were hours. You got the situation. You were really dead. So it was all like this. Did your mother feel the same way, see the same color? Red. Tchh... Did it have to be really red? Your least favorite color. My lord, do you really like this color that much? Your thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of being dragged by a grasp. That was it, you were really leaving the earth and going through the other side. Maybe through the nothingness.
Yoongi swam up with you, inhaling a deep breath and being sure that your face was staying above the surface. Your lungs filled with the air suddenly. You felt pain because of the running air through your trachea. Oxygen was burning all the way down. You coughed a few times but couldn't open your eyes at first, and let Yoongi carry you. It was too bright to look at.
Yoongi got close to the edge of the swimming pool with you in between his arms then first laid you on the edge, and he got out of the pool.
His white shirt had turned in the color between red and pink, his hair was all wet, falling over his face and some was sticking on his forehead as some of the water was dripping from his bangs. He first checked your breathing and once he was sure you caught your breath, he laid on his back, next to you. He sighed and with his hand, he wiped most of the water out of his face as closing his eyes for a brief moment of time then opened them again.
As your eyes got used to the brightness of the sky, you started to feel the wet ground you were laying on. You remembered what happened. How much time has passed, you had no idea. But you heard another breath sounds next to your ear.
He looked at you and he found himself examining your face from a close view for the first time that day. He was glad that you were alive. He didn’t even want to imagine carrying your dead body in his arms than laying next to your tired body. He saw how your chest was going up and down as you were trying to regulate your breath. He closed his eyes and sighed in relief then opened them again.
"It's Yoongi." He uttered softly than ever before and he looked back at the sky, the blue. The man sure was dead, Yoongi had shot him in the heart and his dead body was pending in the pool. A few birds flew over the sky. It was a good day. Too good to have these kinds of shitty events.
