Colorful

232 42 66
                                    

9.

"Are you kidding me?" I growl out loud. "Training? You haven't even told me what an Ebony does yet. I know I'm a Black. I know that as Ebony, I do intensive missions, but what does that entail? What does that mean?"

"It means your Swatch will rely on you to be their protector, their diversion; their sheild and sword, if you will."

"No, I won't!"

"Sorry, that wasn't actually a question..."

"Oh, go to hell, Copper!" I spit, jumping off the bar stool and kicking it over so that it crashes to the floor.

"Whoa, whoa," a voice laughs from behind me. "Easy there. That doesn't sound good." It's Gray, leaning against the entrance.

"Ah, damn," Copper mutters.

I run a hand down the front of my scrubs, embarrassed he saw that. "It's fine, we just... disagree on some things."

"Pffft."

Gray pushes off the wall, coming over and setting the stool to rights. "I get it. Must be hard having someone harping in your ear all the time. But you should refrain from throwing things around in here. Reg is a hard ass, but he's right in love with this place."

I nod, feeling like a child.

Gray is wearing another layered enigma of a suit, the color of his namesake. His hair isn't slicked back today though, the blonde strands curling over his eyes.

"Ugh. Can you stop checking him out? Guy's like, years older than you."

"How many?"

"Five."

"That's not that bad."

"God."

Gray's laugh brings my attention back to him. "You guys fighting in there? You got that sort of expression on your face." He steps forward and knocks softly on my head, "Hey Copper, keep it down in there," he says playfully.

I blush having him that close to me, and a weird giggle comes out of my mouth.

"Barf."

"Can you maybe, I don't know, step out for a bit?"

"No."

"He's not really the compliant type," I explain to Gray.

"Don't I know it. Tried talking to him once. He's a scary kid, always working away. But then again, that's probably why his Blacks live so long and mine don't."

I blanch at his words, visibly paling.

His smile drops completely off his face and he runs a hand through his hair anxiously, "Dammit, what a thing to say. I'm sorry."

"I don't get it. I don't understand. Am I... is there a possibility that I'm going to die working for you guys?"

His face says it all, though he stays awkwardly silent, searching my face.

I nod to myself, not really feeling anything.

"Ebony?"

"I would have thought that Copper would have -- didn't he explain, at least?"

I snort, hiding my horror. "He's not the most personable, that's for sure."

"Ebony, calm down."

Gray, shifts, then pulls out a cigarette pack and a lighter. "Want one?"

I pause. Did I ever smoke before?

S.H.A.D.E. [{ Completed }]✔ (#Wattys2018)Where stories live. Discover now