Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
——————
IT HAD BEEN ALMOST six months since Persephone Harrow first started at the Sykes & Co Agency. And she'd loved every minute; working, training and being around the people that had grown to feel like family.
All except for one, which she still thoroughly believed was sent from Hell by the Devil himself to punish her.
"He's such a showoff." She said, watching as said person, Anthony Lockwood, was training outside with Danny. She and Fern sat on a bench outside, eating their reheated spag bowls that they'd packed for lunch.
Fern sniggered at her friend's comment. And at her face, which was scrunched up as she watched her self-declared rival.
Something that didn't go unnoticed. "What?" Persie asked, wondering what was so funny. Turning her attention away from the two young men training and instead looked at her friend for answers.
"You would know," Fern replied, shoving a fork full of pasta into her mouth, scared that would be her last mouthful. She didn't want her friend to put her in a coma before she'd had one final mouthful.
"What's that supposed to mean?" She asked again. Hoping for elaboration.
Fern shrugged before responding. "That you two can be weirdly similar in some aspects," she said. "Your egos especially." The last part was muffled but still heard by the almost fourteen-year-old girl beside her.
"I do not have an ego!" She argued, huffing out a breath of frustration as she went back to watching the two people sparring less than fifteen feet away. Especially hating how flawless Lockwood's rapier technique was. Seeing as she was still facing difficulties with balancing her blade to the rhythm of her weight.
"Whatever you say." Her friend shrugged again. Happy to end the argument then and there. But it seemed she was forced to endure torture as Persie wasn't shutting up about this idiot anytime soon.
One might think she was obsessed with him.
"I just hate how smug he is." She huffed. "Believing he's God's gift, and that he knows everything." Finally, Persie let herself eat a few mouthfuls of her pasta before it became stone cold; Fern would never forgive her if she did.
"Now you know how it feels standing next to the smartest person in the room," she began, taking a sip from her travel mug with an unhealthy dose of coffee contained within it, "and you've got the brain of the jellyfish."
