No one talks about how it rains in Havana. The drops lash down as heat rises up from the pavement, creating a sticky, unpleasant feeling in your spine.
Rivulets of sweat roll down your back as you leave the air-conditioned shelter of José Martí International airport and step out into the monsoon.
Something's not right. Agent Jeon should've been here by now. As a rookie sleeper in Havana, you recall his excitement, like a kid in a candy store, when he spoke to you over the phone about the possibility of finally getting his first big break in this field.
You were jealous. Jealous of his youth, how he was a blooming bud, filled with promise and hope for this career. You wanted to tell him that things weren't that alluring, that it wasn't that simple. That he signed up for a lifetime of navigating a labyrinth with no exit sign in sight. But like any good agent, you held your tongue.
Shivering as the droplets of sweat turn to ice, you fumble with your pockets, looking for your burner phone. Fuck, where was it?
Your hands close around a heavy weight and you nearly sob with relief as your screen lights up.
You have (1) new message from Seagull.
Seagull: Sorry. Unforeseen circumstances. On my way out. Good luck. Burn after reading.
Shit. I'm alone.
Just as you breathe the words aloud, a sleek black car pulls up to the curb, right on cue.
You know better than to linger under the fluorescent street lamps. Like a puff of smoke, your chosen profession required you to be able to disappear and reappear at a moment's notice. You have no other choice.
You keep your head down as you get in.
"Well, well, well. Fancy meeting you here, agent," the driver's voice drawls.
Pain flared in your temples, a million tiny needles pricking you all at once. The agency could not be serious right now.
"Kim," you seethed, clutching your head in your heads. "You have five seconds to tell me what the fuck you're doing here or I won't hesitate to blow your brains out."
The pain is throbbing now. You clench your jaw. This mission has turned into a giant waste of your time.
"___." Seokjin's voice takes on a somber tone. "Jeon was incapcitated. Someone found out. It's too dangerous for you to be here alone."
"So what, they sent the agency's biggest joke?" You know you're out of line. He visibly flinches, broad shoulders curling inwards, like a child who's been scolded.
"In case you've forgotten, I'm used to being left alone. Especially by you. Nothing I haven't dealt with before."
Seokjin exhales, his sigh filled to the brim with exhaustion and defeat.
"Fight me all you want, ___. I'm not leaving you, not this time."
You don't answer, looking out the window as the fluorescent lights of the airport slowly drop away to reveal the vividly colored buildings and twisting streets of Centero Habana.
The jangle of the keys alerts your tired body that the two of you have arrived to your shared apartment. Gently nudging the door, Seokjin steps aside and allows you to stumble in, blearily rubbing your eyes to cast away the sleep that threatens to incapacitate you.
The silence between you spans an entire ocean, and just like the storm he is, Seokjin brings it all crashing down.
"Sleep, ___. It's been a while since you've had a chance to rest. Taipei, then Cape Town, then Brussels, right? And now you're here."
YOU ARE READING
BURN AFTER READING
FanfictionThe agency made the biggest mistake they ever could by trusting Kim Seokjin one more time. You weren't going to do the same.
