'i see a world of colours that mean everything to me when all you can hear are notes that mean nothing to you'
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A slow paced, aesthetic, dreamy book based on songs and emotions | A list of stories that I never got to write~
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Updates twice...
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'I'ma treat you better (I'ma treat you better)'
Feelings aren't easy to understand, which is a pretty valid reason as to why Reina Hearth had locked those damned things away.
It had been five years since she had become one of them. "Them" being a + sign. It was a title many didn't know existed. All they knew was that the Equations unit worked under a series of intelligence units across the grid.
Reina wasn't just part of the unit; she practically ran it.
Not many cases caught her attention, but when they had information of value to her, she'd do anything and everything to stop that information from getting out of hand. She had contacts all over the world, and her knowledge was her deadliest weapon.
She'd been given the nickname Ismene, after the Sister of Antigone in Greek Mythology.
She worked alongside another of her kind, Cato.
Another collector of information, Cato was as mysterious to the world as she was. To one another, they knew each other better than the back of their hands. "Mila, give me an update on case #75429," striding into the place she deemed her office, Reina's pace was leisurely, though the look on her face was anything but.
"I've sent a report and summary to your email," the blue-haired girl winked, fingers flying across the keyboard. As if on cue, Reina's tablet went off, and she tapped on the email.
Skimming it quickly, she plopped down in her chair, spun around, and placed a finger on her temple.
Sighing, she put down the tablet and waved her mouse around on the mousepad.
"Okay, Mila, contact the third agent we have available. I want a full seventy-two hours of eyes on Vernia Sinclaire," Reina called. Her phone beeped, and she swore. "Tia, get me one of Cato's team members; this is joint jurisdiction. The damned crimson hand is at it again."
The crimson hand wasn't worthy of being capitalized, having been the criminal mastermind behind a drug trafficking ring. She wanted this bastard gone.
And she always got what she wanted.
Her phone buzzed, and she glanced at the caller ID. Raising an eyebrow, she picked it up.
