ii. A Rude Awakening

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chapter two
a rude awakening






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          EVER SINCE she was a little girl, Rory always loved the shop.

          Some would say that she's biased, but she couldn't help it. Who wouldn't love an organisation that bought them freedom? As a little girl, she was always taught that the world is a dark and cruel place. That life should be lived by a simple code — kill or be killed. Which was, to put it simply, very fucked up. But, after being saved, she had quickly learned that life is more than being a highly skilled murder-child. It was more than just surviving, and thinking that it's you against the world. Life was, well, living.

          And ever since then, she'd been grateful.

          The last time she had been here was when she was twelve. Now, she was twenty-two. Back then, she didn't have much — now, she didn't have much either (she had no job, and maybe like two or three friends, but OK), but she was living. She wasn't some weapon. Or some murderer. She was human. It's come to a full circle. Funny how life worked.

          "Ladies first," Harry smiled, upon opening the door for her once they've arrived.

          A warm breeze with a hint of pine and lavender greeted them, as they walked through the tailor in a swift manner. It was like clockwork. Rory memorised each step, heading towards the dressing room to the right, silently following Harry in tow, and shutting the door behind her with a click.

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