Why Can't I Be Both? (Mystic Messenger 707 x Reader)

PART 1

By the time Y/N reached the apartment, the sun had begun to set. Crickets chirped loudly in the dying light and the winter air felt as saturated as the dark clouds looming overhead looked. You made your way into the building with haste as fat droplets of water began to paint the ground and lightning cracked across the darkened skyline. The elevator, as always, was slow to come down and did so with a significant protest before it finally opened its doors.

Moments later, you made your way down the second-story hallway to the newest door there, and you stopped to shuffle the stack of papers in your hand to one side as you punched in a series of digits on the keypad lock. After a moment, the keypad beeped and a distinct click echoed through the empty hall before you swung the door open and walked in. You made your way to the living room quickly and with a sigh of relief as you sat the papers down on the coffee table and took off your heavy coat, hanging it carefully on its hook.

You took a moment to lean back on the couch as you sat, kicking your shoes off and lining them neatly under the table before dragging the table toward yourself, careful not to dislodge any papers from the stack that rested there. You glanced over the top sheet quickly, eyes scanning the words Guest Information and Availability before setting it aside and moving on to the next sheet, making note of important facts and availabilities in a small notepad that rested on the corner of the table.

It did not take long to lose yourself in the paperwork, and the next time you took note of your progress, the stack was already three-quarters finished and your eyes were beginning to blur. You stood with a groan, stretching your limbs before making your way toward the kitchen. The rest of the work could wait until the morning, after all.

As you made your way toward the adjacent room, you took a quick glance at your phone, noting the 7 messages, 3 missed calls, and still opened chatroom from the RFA app and cocking an eyebrow. Why is everyone trying to contact me? Is something wrong?

Your finger moved to open the app, but you stopped cold at a sound from your door. There was a distinct rustling followed by tapping and then an eerie quiet.

Your hand inched toward the hallway vanity, grabbing the knife you kept on its shelf.

The location of this apartment is supposed to be classified, you thought to yourself. Who the hell could that be?

As if in answer, the door burst open and you ducked off to the side out of sight of the door, knife bared and ready to swing.

"Y/N?" A voice called out as footsteps started toward the living room.

You faltered, the voice vaguely familiar to you. Wait a minute...

You peeked around the corner, taking in the lean, redhead male that had just so crudely invaded your space. "Seven zero seven?"

It took him a moment to spot you, but the moment he did, a relieved smile broke out across his face. "Oh thank god- Wait, is that a knife?"

You looked down, only realizing then that the knife was still clutched tightly in your hand. "Oh, yeah, I guess it is."

"What were you going to do- stab me?"

"Well obviously I didn't know it was you! It's not like I had any heads up or anything!" You replied haughtily.

"I tried to give you one," he replied as he walked toward you, taking the knife from your grasp and tossing it on the nearby vanity. "When's the last time you checked your phone?"

Oh, shit. You remembered the missed calls and texts you hadn't yet had the time to check.

"Everyone in the RFA has been trying to get ahold of you. You're okay though? Not hurt or anything?" He asked.