Apricity || M. Keehl

Epilogue

Quinn hid behind a slab of cement, running from one obscured spot to another. She had been sent on a FBI mission to find the leader of a local gang, and to kill him.

She gripped her gun tighter as footsteps approached her hiding place. As they walked away, she let out a sigh of relief.

She dashed closer to the gang's hideout, sneaking past any watchers. Quinn decided that the best course of action was to sneak in from the inside. Joining the gang would be the best option for her, since she could slowly gain their trust and sneakily frame the leader's death on someone else.

She knew that if she tried to walk past the members outside, they would make her leave. She couldn't have that happen, so she snuck through.

If only she had given her plan more thought.

Before she could even get close to the entrance, she was ambushed and apprehended by a group of men in the gang. Her quick reflexes let her slip past them, and she sped away. The surprise she felt failed her, and she couldn't quite focus on where she was going.

Soon, she was tied up and captured. She gave up on any chance of escape. Although the ropes were uncomfortable, Quinn knew it would hurt more if she tried to move her wrists.

She could only hope that help would be on the way, and she would survive long enough for it to happen.

Quinn was harshly pushed into a barren room, the hard, cold floor making contact with her knees. She could already tell that her outfit was ruined. "What a pain..." she sighed.

In the center of the room was an old couch. She didn't bother looking up at who was sitting there. She had already overstayed her welcome, after all.

The room was painstakingly silent, the only sound being loud snaps. She wondered what they were doing. Maybe she was about to die.

Four doors stood across from her, worn down. Quinn considered making a run for it.

"Boss, look what we found!" One of her captors exclaimed, seemingly talking to someone. Finally, Quinn decided to look up, glaring at the people in front of her. One of the two was their boss, after all. She needed to identify him.

The first of the two looked at her in amusement, grinning at her visible anger. The other one, sitting next to the first, showed slight shock, before returning back to a poker face. He bit on a chocolate bar with a loud snap.

One of her eyes twitched as she held the sight before her. Of course Mello had to be here...on the day of her capture. Her eyes darted back down quickly. There was no use in drawing attention to the fact that they knew each other.

"Well? What do we do with her Mello? After all, all of your ideas seem to work," the annoying one, presumably the boss, said.

Mello looked at Quinn, thinking about his options. "I can deal with her myself, Rod."

Quinn's intuition was correct. It was the boss.

Soon, she was brought to another room, the third of the four doors connected to the other room.

As the other mafia members left the room, she finally realized that she was stuck with Mello.

"I didn't know you were going to be here, Quinn," Mello stared at the girl in front of her.

Said girl could only yank on her restraints, "I have a job, you know. Why are you here?"

He didn't respond, untying her hands.

"To catch Kira, of cour-"

"Kira this, Kira that. What is with you? You must really love Kira to only talk about him all day, Mello," Quinn interrupted in disgust.

Mello sighed at her response, looking at her straight in the eyes. "Mihael."

"Hm?" Quinn says, rubbing her sore wrists.

"It's Mihael."

Her eyes widened, putting her hand over his mouth, "You're not supposed to be going around and telling people that!"

Mello grabbed her hand, putting it over his cheek. His other hand pulled her closer, wrapping around her waist.

"You know Quinn...I never got to tell you how I felt ever since all those years before. You saw the note, right?"

"Yes. Yes I did," Quinn replied, closing her eyes. She leaned in, letting their lips touch.

As she pulled away, she whispered to him, "It's Quinton."