Agent Kelly Tomlinson

Twelve.

I woke up the next morning thinking about Harry. I still couldn't believe how well our talk went last night I almost thought that I had been dreaming. But I remembered him wrapping the blanket around my shoulders when he saw me shivering, offered to make me a cup of tea which I declined, and then wished me a good night. I fell asleep feeling light.

I woke up first again, made another run around the neighborhood and whipped up some blueberry pancakes. Although my earphones were still in and I was focused on Beyoncé's Upgrade U my sixth sense of knowing when I was being watched kicked in as soon as I felt someone behind me. In an instant, I whipped around, ripped my earphones out of my ears and, shoved the spatula at the man's throat.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Louis put his hands up in surrender. His eyes were wide with surprise.

My heart was hammering against my ribs and my mouth felt dry. I hadn't felt this spooked out in such a long time. My eyes felt wild as they flitted back and forth between his. My mind was playing tricks on me.

I was suddenly 16 on a group mission somewhere in Ireland that I didn't know existed until then. The only thought I had was making my father proud of me, but I knew I had no chance after being ambushed and trapped in a small space somewhere cold and gloomy. I was alone and could see my own breath. The only sound I could hear was the thumping of someone's boots against the wooden floors. I tried looking for something to use to defend myself in case the prick were to come back. The only thing I found was a worn out rope.

The thumping of boots stopped and I was left with a deafening silence. My breath picked up and my teeth clattered together. "Be strong, Kelly. You can do this." I gripped the rope tight in my hands. Despite the cold, I was sweating. My back was to the door. The taste of iron in my mouth was puke inducing. "Deep breaths, Kelly."

The door was ripped open. I didn't take the time to a send a wishful prayer to a god I didnt believe in. I turned around and wrapped the rope around the guy's neck. His meaty hands gripped my wrists, but I only saw red and I wasn't letting up. I felt the rope burning on my palms. His skin was slowly loosing color. This grown ass man was losing to a 16 year old girl. My teeth clenched as I saw the light in his eyes burn out. He choked out one last breath before falling to the floor. I didn't duck down to check his pulse and make sure he was dead. I ran for the hills.

"Hey. Hey, hey." Louis lightly wrapped his hand around my wrist to lower the spatula. "It's just me."

Louis's eyes were the exact same color as mine. My mom always told us we had the prettiest eyes of all the U.K.

I felt the heat rush to my face as I flushed in embarrassment. I almost beat Louis with a spatula because of a flashback I had from two years ago. And here I was supposed to be a hero and I now I'm going psycho. The department's therapist said that PTSD was common among agents. I always thought I was too good to have post traumatic stress disorder. Of course I had bad dreams, but I never went into a delirious state like that. Not since I was 16.

"S-sorry," I took a step back and looked down at the ground. Why did I feel so ashamed?

"Are you okay?" Louis asked concerned.

"I smell bacon," Harry walked into the kitchen with a smirk on his face. He was in grey sweats and no shirt. It was the first time I was fully able to see a lot of his tattoos. "Whoa. And I sense tension."

I ripped my attention away from this situation and forced a smile on my face. "Nope. No tension. Just blueberries, bacon, and coffee." I scraped a pancake off the pan and plopped some bacon onto the plate. I leaned over the counter and handed it to Harry.

"I'm more of a chocolate chip kind of person." Harry smirked.

"Blueberries are healthier. Plus you don't have any chocolate chips in the house."