Carmilla ⌖ Pietro Maximoff

Breakfast

Carmilla's POV

That shit dick motherfucker

Carmilla's fists struck the door with the force of her pent up frustration.

"Fuck!" The hard wood stung on impact causing her to pull her hands back to her chest, rubbing her sore knuckles.

She obviously hadn't intended to be caught or to escape right then at all. She'd just wanted to survey her new holding cell; test how much force it would take to break their "state of the art" security. She just hadn't expected their security to be that goddamned silver haired dick face.

Blowing out a breath she squeezed her eyes shut as if to reboot herself, but as expected that never worked and Carmilla was left to flop back onto the frustratingly comfortable king sized bed.

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Pietro's POV

Pietro shut his bedroom door behind him grumbling a mix of curses to himself. The sky outside his window had just begun to shift to dawn, the grayish hue faintly lighting his dark room. Pietro rubbed his eyes again. The lack of sleep would only make the oncoming day that much worse not to mention the throbbing bruise at his side.

Pulling his shirt off over his head, he sucked in through clenched teeth, as he surveyed the colorful blotch of purple and yellow growing over his abdomen.

Gross.

Sighing, he tossed the dirty uniform towards the hamper by his closet only to miss it entirely.

"Hey F.R.I.D.A.Y?"

The feminine voice replied from the speakers of his computer by the wall. "Yes?"

"Do we have any files on the Steele Corp employee?"

There was a moment of silence before her voice hummed to life once again. "They were able to uncover her identity, I've already sent the file to your computer."

"Thanks F.R.I.D.A.Y." He crossed the room to his desk and plopped himself down in the swivel chair before it.

"You're welcome Pietro." The voice faded out leaving him with the clacking of his keyboard.

It took no time to find and open the file. The page bore images of the girl in the next room, only in these she looked a bit more polished, a bit more like the girl he met last year. She was pictured attending Steele Corp product launches, shaking hands with Matthew Steele, even sitting before a desk tinkering with some piece of machinery.

Whoever she was, she was much more than an average employee. His eyes drifted down the page to a line labeled "Name"
In bold black lettering it read: Carmilla Steele

"Steele." He repeated back to himself in disbelief. Scrolling back up to the photos Pietro found the one picturing Carmilla, Matthew, and another younger looking man. He couldn't pull his eyes away from it and then the caption below it. "Matthew Steele, his son Nathan and his daughter Carmilla Steele present a new era of weaponry."

Im so fucked.

Blowing out a breath, he raked his hand through his hair tugging on the roots. How could he have gone this long without making the connection? Then again, how could he have gone this long without even knowing her name?

"Carmilla" He breathed out, feeling the name on his tongue. Placing his hand back over the mouse, he continued digging for information until his alarm clock next to his bed began its familiar screeching beep.