Love in Bullets

4| Never Had Enough, Huh?

When she was five 0013 had a dream to become a lawyer. 

She had day dreams of her future self arguing in a busy courtroom. She would always be wearing a freshly tailored suit. In her dreams she was always tall, standing easily at 5'8 or 5'9. 

She always had dreams like these, wishing for a brighter future to make up for her dulling past. And she got her wish. In the worst form imaginable. 

----

The hotel room was nice enough, but the look on her partners face said she was clearly giving more praise than should be allowed. 

It was a small motel, right on the side of the road in the middle of no where. 0013 supposed it was better than where her last job was, which was literally no where-it happened to be underground. 

"No," Phoenix muttered quietly while shaking his head softly. 0013 had barely heard him, his voice so quiet yet so rough.

it startled her, and she hated that.

0013 didn't for anything else from the grumbling Italian man, instead grabbing her bag and launching out of the car. The warm air immediately latching on to her skin like a leech. She heard a car door open and close behind her but she, once again, paid him no mind.

As her hand touched the rusted metal handle, she regretted wearing only a black tank top and black ripped jeans. She knew that Italy was generally warm, with colder winters, and hated herself for not having a jacket on standby. 

She didn't forget to cover what she need to. 

0013 wore five bandages in total, each of them having some sort of tattoo peaking out from the edges-some were clustered since they were closer together. She made sure that no one would see what she hid even from herself under swirly designs. 

The scratched doors opened with a creak. Her calculated gaze found the bored looking receptionist. Her blonde hair was put into a bun, her bright red lipstick smeared and smacking together loudly as she chewed on her bubblegum. 

0013 walked calmly up to the old, barely clear desk. She could already tell this interaction was going to be absolute hell. The girl didn't look up from her phone until 0013 was right in front of the desk.

The girl silently raised one of her poorly manicured brows. "Posso aiutarti con una cosa, signora?" The girl asked in a heavy Italian accent. 

("Can I help you with something, lady?")

0013 nodded before pulling up her room information her phone, barley giving the somewhere around seventeen-ish year old girl the time of day. Showing the girl, she noticed her smile at something behind.

She wasn't dumb enough to not know that Phoenix had walked through the door, remembering that they had really only seen one person go even close to this place. And even then, they had ended up making a U-turn, seemingly finding out they were going the wrong way.

0013 cleared her throat, her hand waving impatiently in the girls' face as she continued to check out her partner. 

When Phoenix finally stood beside her, he placed a hand on the small of her back before snaking around to find her wrist. 0013 didn't waste even a glance at the girl as she pulled out a gun that was under her tank top and pressed it against Phoenix's chest.

She heard a scream, knowing it was the girl, and the click of heels rushing out of the dingy motel. 0013 focused back on to the man with an un-yielding grip on her wrist, his eyes focused on her face. He was tracing it as if he would blink and it would go away.

And she hated it.

"Cosa mi stai facendo mio piccolo assassino?" he whispered softly, pulling her impossibly closer. 

("What are you doing to me my little killer?")

Agent 0013 didn't want to tell him that she was fluent in at least ten different languages-only two of them being fictional-as she retracted the gun from his chest. 

He stared at her a moment longer, reading her eyes like an open book before whispering words that would hurt her.

"mi dispiace assassino."

(I'm sorry killer.)

And she felt a prick. 

And then went black.

A familiar black.

A familiar haunting black.