Colourless

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Almost a month later, and now it was only one more day...

One more day and we would be infiltrating the city, before facing the president himself.

I wasn't going to lie, I was scared. Practically quivering in my boots. But, the thought of the truth about all of us remaining as a state secret kept me putting one foot in front of the other.

"So, it insulates really well—" the woman explained, facing away as I zip up the long sleeved, athletic jumpsuit— "That means that if it's cold, you probably won't die."

The breath hitches in my throat, and I glance over my shoulder. "That's... comforting, thank you."

"Annie, I'll take it from here." Turning once more, I flash Malik a grateful smile as he politely excuses the woman. "Sorry about her, she can be a little... blunt."

Chuckling, I gesture for him to turn around. "I noticed." Peeling off the jumpsuit and changing back into my legs and oversized shirt, I tap Malik's shoulder. He turns, grinning and offering his arm. "Walk with me?" He asks, wiggling his brows suggestively as I loop my arm within his. Rolling my eyes, I shove him playfully.

"You know," I begin, blinking up at him hopefully, "You could always cook something for us to eat. You know... as a parting gift before battle?"

Malik scoffs, repeating my words beneath his breath with a chuckle. "Fine," he sighs dramatically, "But I have something for you."

"The last time a guy said that to me, I ended up in Ireland with a drag queen; wearing nothing but a—"

"I... I don't think I wanna know," Malik interjects, "You can tell me later. Preferably when I'm drunk so I can elect to forget the conversation."

"Fine," I huff, stopping and resting my hands on my waist, "What is it?" Reaching into his pocket, Malik pulls out a switchblade and flicks it open. "Absolutely not. Not again."

"Pearl," he laughs, tucking the blade away and placing it in my palm, "It's for you. I doubt — and hope — you won't need it, but you never know."

I grin proudly, wielding the weapon and prancing down the hall — acting like I was slashing at my invisible enemies. "I told you I'd get my own weapon eventually," I smirk over my shoulder as Malik watches and rolls his eyes, "I just didn't guess that you, Mr I-Don't-Trust-You-With-A-Weapon, would be the one to give it to me."