Mission was Taken DNF

Anam Cara

Anam Cara

(n, Gaelic) A person with whom you can share your deepest thoughts, feelings, and dreams with. Your soul friend.

~=~

"George, wait!" I shout across the dark hall, I watch as he dips around the corner and up the stairs to the rooms. The walls ricocheting the running steps of us both, I make it to the stairs just as he crosses to the last step and takes off again. I roll my eyes, ignoring my aching side from lack of exercise over these last several weeks. When I do catch up to him, he waits patiently by his door, his eyes flickering with excitement. He looked proud of himself, he'd soon be advenging his parents of their unlucky deaths. "George, seriously. Calm down." I whisper, the distance between us closed and my breathing pushes his hair away from his face. I step back once I take notice of his eyes, looking deeply into mine.

"Dream! We have to tell them all, like right now! This is huge!" He exaggerates with his hands while he talks, giving me a dead austere look.

"How do you know where he is, George?" I try to bring reality back into his life, make him acknowledge that there were steps to these things. That we couldn't just wake everyone up and deal with his intel at the dead of night. And yet, that's exactly what George threatens to do, giving me the most 'know it all' visage. Although I couldn't make out most of his features, the hallway was far too dark, the little light coming from the crack under his door from the lamp we left on, is enough to highlight his stiff stature.

"Well, fine. I don't know where he is," He looks at the ground, thinking about what else he has to say, but he beats me to my own question that is left behind in a short inhale, "But I do know how we can get his location." There's a brief pause, tension thick enough to cut with a knife. We wait to see who talks, who asks the next question. The lack of a response George gets, makes him bored. He ditches me in the hallway with a roll of his eyes, shutting his door in my face and the coldness follows the Stonehenge that is built up around us again.

Left in the hallway, dark and cold from the water droplets of left over rain, I sigh; running a hand through my blonde hair grasping it in a random surge of anger. I kick the air, barely gliding over his door but I know he heard the brush along the frame. I know he knows I'm confused about all of this. I question why he did what he did, why he would ruin a moment like we were having for a stupid mission. He could've waited until we finished outside, ignored the buzz in his mind, the flash of a good idea, and focused on the tingle my hand through his hair gave him. But no, he instead wrecks the beauty we had. Takes the quiet to his advantage.

~=~

I walk into the kitchen, used to the amount of people who are in there every morning. Bad picks and stirs at some eggs in a pan, Ant manages to take out the bad leftovers in the fridge, Sapnap stares at his phone intently and Sam walks away from the espresso machine with a creamy coffee in hand. But today there's one extra person inside the base.

"Long time no see!" I wave over to the man of the house, the leader of our cases, and one of my truest friends here, "Quackity! Back from your holiday?" I ask him as he steps into the clearing where no one stands but me. The gloomy clouds hover again outside and the lawn is beyond drowned by the looks of things.

"Dream! Oh my god, good morning!" He waves back, still pushing around Sam, "Yeah, I'm so glad to be back." He reaches for a hug which I of course give generously. I hadn't seen Quackity in ages, well that might be an over exaggeration. Others might say he's only been gone for two months, keeping us in check from thousands of miles away.