"Life is fifty wrong turns down a bumpy road. All you can hope is that you end up somewhere nice." - Punk 57
*I don't own any of the characters except the OCs.
Melanie Lovett was a former CIA Agent. She decided it wasn't in the cards for her to kee...
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"Oh, come on Melly, come with me," Sam pleaded.
His hands were clasped together as if he was praying but really he was just begging. He had been trying to get me to train with him all morning.
"Not happening Sammy," I said, biting into an apple.
He gave me puppy eyes and his bottom lip was jutted out slightly into a pout.
"You know that won't work on me, right?" I smirked.
His face fell into an aggravated grimace.
"You're impossible. I just want to see what you can do," he pouted.
I rolled my eyes. He had been pestering for the past hour, asking me to go fight him in the training room.
"Why does it matter? I don't do that anymore. Not unless I have to anyways."
He shrugged. "I'm just curious."
"Curiosity killed the cat."
He groaned. "You're no fun."
I laughed, leaning on the counter, and sipping my coffee. "I'm very fun Samuel. Don't get it twisted."
Sam came up to me and tried to tickle me. I jerked and moved out of the way, but he swung his arm and hooked it on my waist.
"STOPPP. YOU'RE GOING TO MAKE ME PEE MYSELF YOU BUFFOON," I yelped.
He threw me onto the counter, and I banged my head on the cupboards.
"Ow," I muttered, rubbing my head.
He chuckled. "My bad, Melly."
"What the hell is going on here?"
I froze and turned to see Tony standing by the door, tapping his foot. A small smirk played on his lips.
"Uh. I'm sorry sir," I jumped off the counter quickly and standing up straight.
I felt like I had just gotten caught doing something bad. A flash of getting yelled at by one of my many foster parents flew through my mind and my hands gripped the counter. Tony's eyes shot down to my hands for a split seconds before looking me back in the eyes.
"Tony. Not sir. I'm not sixty years old. I'm also not mad. Just surprised to see you getting along with everyone here," he mentioned.
I let out a breath a relief I didn't even know I was holding. He was walked around the kitchen and towards the fridge.
"Not everyone," Sam whispered.
I elbowed him in the gut so he would shut up. He glared at me.
"I am. Everyone has been really nice."
He smiled and nodded approvingly.
"Good. I just came in here for a snack," he said grabbing a bag of grapes. "You may proceed."
