I'm a Seventeen-year-old Assassin [ON HOLD]

I'm a seventeen-year-old Professional Assassin Working for the Government [24]

* the picture on the side is what i had imagined for Rylie's dress

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It was nearly two hours before Connor returned again, bearing sliver bags with heavy ammo strapped around his body.

"How did you possibly get any of this into the building?" I asked checking out the calibre of the gun. Wait, gun? no plural. "Hey, why do you only have one gun?"

Connor, reached into this jacket and pulled out a  small handgun and passed it to me. I looked at it and threw it onto the bed "Why do I get girl gun?"

He rolled his eyes “Because you would be able to hide that gun,” -he gestured to the gun that I clearly desired - “under this dress” he went to one of the shiny bags that he had bought in ‘Christopher Cronus ‘ was scrawled across a sliver bag in bright red. He reached in a pulled out a black, slender, sequined dress with a visible spilt up the side of it. I handed it to me, followed by a pair of strappy black heels that looked more like a favourable weapon than a fashion statement.

I held up the dress with hand looking at it up and down, then looking back at Connor “Well go on,” he said, trying to hold back laughter, he enjoyed catching me off guard. “Try it on”

Sluggishly I walked to the bathroom, to bad there wasn’t a kitchen in this hotel room. But then again I don’t think stabbing him would be such a good thing to do.

I emerged moments later, in the dress. The black fabrics hugged my body closely the halter straps closed around the back of my neck leaving my back bare until just above my butt where the material picked up again and swooped to the ground. The split up the left side, as I had suspected. Finished just as it touched on my thigh. Leaving my leg exposed, but the clingy fabric really made me doubt whether I would be able to hide a gun at all.

Catching Connor off guard, for once, his mouth gaped as I approached him. His laughter was still there briefly, he opened his mouth and in a brief moment I expected him to stutter a cliché almost of the lines ‘You look like a girl’. But nothing came out. After a while of examining me in close detail he finally said “Where are you going to hide a gun in that dress?”

I snarled, “That’s what I was thinking,”

“Maybe you’ll just have to go without” he smiled.

“No.” I snapped “I need to have a gun, it would be like sending me in there naked, which is what I sort of already feel like. After showing this much skin. ”  I jumped up and down, squirming “I don’t want to wear this, I can’t have my gun, wearing a dress, I’m in heels, I’m not wearing a bra” here comes the cliché  “don’t mess with me” I threw a punch out, mistakenly it collided with Connors cheek, what a shame!

“Hold up there Miss Congeniality they’re Jimmy Choo’s to be exact,”-he pointed at my feet- “ and have you forgotten about hair and make-up?”

I groaned, “I don’t want any, I bad enough I have to wear a dress, but hairspray and glittery eye-shadow is just plain mean.”