"Sorry, Damien, I've changed my mind again, could you put the pink streamers up again? Actually- wait, no, sorry, you tell me, what looks good with the purple decorations?"
Damien, his arms filled with multiple green balloons, turns around in the limited space of the top stair of the ladder, to look at me with murderous eyes.
"Oh mon putain de dieu, quelqu'un me couvre de cyanure et me pousse dans son cul. Est-ce que cette chienne pense que je suis une roue chromatique?" (Oh my fucking God, someone cover me in cyanide and shove me up her ass. Does this bitch think I'm a colour wheel?)
'I'm going to kill her' he mouths at me, before turning the other direction to smile at Agni.
She's nice, but maybe a little bit indecisive.
"Mustard yellow would compliment this purple wonderfully," Damien smiles sweetly.
"Oh... you really think so? Well, I, okay I guess," she smiles weakly, "You're the expert!"
Feeling a little bad for her, I put a purple streamer down, inching over to her to tell her my choice of colours. She smiles and nods, and all the yellow-holding helpers drop their balloons with a sigh, treading over to the quickly dwindling multi-coloured pack of them.
"I might shoot her," Anna whispers into my ear.
"It's illegal to shoot nice people."
"You look stunning, honey."
Rose blush coats my cheeks and I smile at the compliment. In my peripheral, I catch the back of Ezra's blazer as he speaks to another agent, remembering his own reaction to the dress I have on.
His dark muted eyes ran down the length of the dress, flitting back to mine in a heated gaze the second I stepped out of the bathroom. He ran his tongue over his teeth, leaning his right hand over the arch of the door and leaning down over me.
"You look... dressed for the occasion."
This bitch.
"Wrong. Try again."
He rolled his eyes.
"You look great. Now let's go."
"Mmmmm... no."
"Fuck," he rubbed his hand over his jaw, clearly tired of my shenanigans, "you look gorgeous. Now shut your mouth and lets go."
"ECHA, change Mr. Ford's name to Simpmaster 2000."
"Sir will now be addressed as Simpmaster 2000."
"You're fired."
"So you do joke! What a lovely surprise, I thought I would have to give you lessons sometime soon."
"Simpmaster 2000, your car is-"
"Shut up."
ECHA stopped talking.
I zone back in only to find him watching me with a smirk on his face, lifting his glass up to his mouth, his eyes still on mine.
'Whiskey?' I mouth at him.
He shakes his head, 'Iced lemon tea' he mouths back.
I laugh slightly, 'You're joking'.
'I'm serious,' he deadpans.
'Why?'
'I like my liver.'
'You never liked it before.'
'You should deal with them.'
'With who?'
He glances to the side lazily before spinning around to face the bar.
YOU ARE READING
Double Agent
RomantizmThe only thing Ezra Ford knows is the Intelligence, and the Intelligence knows him. Trained to shoot dead where he aims, nothing and no one has ever stood in his path of vengeance. After all, being the most high ranked agent in the British Secret Se...
