Assassinated: Mellowalker New Universe

Chapter 10: Wanna Remix It?

[Warning: mentions and description of killing. Also, I don't know a single fucking thing about the styles or the process of making music. Just ignore my shitty knowledge if you're an expert on that.]

[Oh yeah, btw, the description of Alan's house is real. Go watch his videos on YouTube.]

[Alright guys! Enjoy reading y'all.]

(Alan's POV)

"Alan, I don't want to talk about it."

Chris was wrapped up in a blanket on the couch, and I was perched on the edge of a chair in front of the TV, uneasily picking at a book that I didn't even want to read.

After lots of apologizing, begging for explanations, and silence in return, I dragged him back to the hospital. He refused a checkup, said he was totally fine, and wanted me to "get me outta this dreary white place" and bring him to my house.

I agreed and drove him home the next day.

It was Joel.

I understood why he didn't want to go back to the headquarters and face that office again. But at the same time, I didn't want to push but I was desperately curious.

I tried to build up a bit of courage to ask him, but of course he didn't want to talk about it. Who would anyway in his shoes?

"Can I...help you in any way?" I asked him timidly.

He sighed, flipped over and propped himself up on his elbows. "Answer one question for me. How did the mission go after I passed out?"

I tensed, the red mist that covered my vision at that hotel momentarily flaring up behind my eyes. I took a deep breath and smelled the scent of sick metallic sweetness in the air again.

He scrunched up the blanket under his chin and nuzzled into it, staring at me expectantly with his clear hazel gaze.

I never did like reflecting on what is done but I think I owed him that much.

Also, to be honest, he was...kinda cute when he looked like this, and I wanted to keep it that way for a bit.

"It went...well, I think." I answered truthfully, cringing internally as I thought upon the details that I knew he'd surely want to hear about. "I finished off the guards rather quickly and wasn't too seriously hurt. You know, just a cut here and there."

My forearm tingled at my own words, tiny needles of pain shooting up at the memory. That was where the knife I took for him slit open my skin. An action that I would probably never understand the reason for.

I took the knife for him.

Maybe just some crappy partnership bond thingy, I tried consoling myself, desperately wanting to control the rush of thoughts over my already over-fried brain.

But I knew too damn well it wasn't.

I tried breathing deeply again and focusing on his face. How his eyes sparkled, how his still wet chocolate-brown locks plastered against his forehead from the shower he just took. How his lips curled the tiniest bit at their ends, and how his gaze was penetrating and concealing at the same time.

No, that definitely did not help.

"...And then I called Tri to pick you up. You were unconscious by then I think, your pulse was slow and you were going to lose your arm if we didn't get you to an emergency room in time. I figured he's gonna arrive in time for me to just about finish everything." I said in one breath, tearing away my gaze from his light amber irises.