𝙼𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝙼𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚙𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 ~ Steve Rogers

French Flirt ~ 6

The elevator emits its customary ding, heralding their arrival as the doors gracefully slide open to unveil the familiar recreational room that Eva had navigated during her prior visit to the compound. Peter strides confidently, casually flinging his backpack onto the couch. He proceeds to the kitchenette, stowing away a few items procured from the convenience store in the refrigerator. Eva trails behind, perching herself delicately on the very edge of the couch she occupied just the other night.

"I've got a few meetings to attend first, so make yourself at home," Peter begins, the refrigerator door closing with a muted thud. He pauses, adopting a stern countenance. "Actually, don't get too comfortable. Refrain from wandering off. Stay put and refrain from laying hands on anything," he points assertively, cognizant of the mischief his friend tends to stir up in his absence and, occasionally, in his company.

"Tu peux me faire confiance, Peter," Eva raises her hands innocently, insinuating that Peter can place his trust in her, just as she had said to him in French. Peter stares back with a blank expression. The language barrier is the primary hurdle, and he recalls that Eva vowed not to utter a word in French today.

"D'accord, d'accord. I'll stop, starting from now," she sighs, settling comfortably in her seat.

"You do understand that I can only comprehend the parts you say in English, right?" Peter remarks, walking past her and making his way towards an exit.

"I said the last part in English," she defends, opting to rise to her feet. Without looking back, she watches him walk away.

"Stay here; I'll return in an hour or so," Peter lingers by the door, awaiting a response.

"Whatever you say, Spider-Man," Eva exaggerates, playfully curtseying in his direction before sauntering over to the kitchenette to concoct a drink. Peter sighs, acknowledging that it's the most he can expect, and leaves Eva to her own devices in the room.

As Peter departs, Eva leans against the kitchenette counter, a mischievous glint in her eyes. She takes her time concocting a drink, savoring the momentary solitude. The compound's recreational room becomes her playground.

A vibrant array of colors emanates from a nearby shelf adorned with board games. Eva's eyes narrow as she spots a chess set. A smirk plays on her lips as she contemplates the pieces laid out on the board.

"Let's see if I can spice things up a bit," she mutters to herself, her fingers dancing over the chessboard. With a few swift moves, she rearranges the pieces into a whimsical formation, defying the conventional rules of the game. Satisfied with her minor act of rebellion, she surveys her handiwork.

As she takes a sip of her drink, Peter's warning echoes in her mind. She chuckles to herself, convinced that a little harmless mischief won't hurt. The compound's quietude serves as her canvas, and she's ready to paint it with her own brand of eccentricity.

"Aren't you supposed to be carrying out the task I assigned you? Instead, you're indulging in a solitary game of chess, Evangeline," the voice echoes within her mind, catching her off guard. The unexpected intrusion startles Eva, causing her to drop the glass she was holding, and it shatters into pieces on the hard tiled floor.

"MERDE!" Eva curses in her native tongue, quickly getting to her knees to gather the larger shards.

"Could you give me a heads-up before making such a grand entrance? If you're not going to stick to our agreement and leave me alone for most of the day, then I won't hold up my end," Eva hisses, still hurriedly collecting the scattered fragments.

"Do you believe it's wise to issue threats?" the voice continues, its tone more monotone than anything else.

"I'm here, aren't I?" Eva reminds the voice, emphasizing that she is holding up her end of the deal by gaining access to the compound again.