✓ ❘ 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐃, 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐌𝐘 𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐄𝐑 ─ 𝐁. 𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐄

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜɪʀᴛᴇᴇɴ: ɪ ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡs

✧ ✧ ✧

      ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜɪʀᴛᴇᴇɴ: ɪ ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡs

❝ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴏɴ'ᴛ ʟᴀsᴛ ᴛᴇɴ sᴇᴄᴏɴᴅs ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ's ᴀ ʙᴜʟʟᴇᴛ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʜᴇᴀᴅ. ❞

✧ ✧ ✧

              YOU SWUNG YOUR LEGS BACK AND FORTH AS THEY DANGLED FROM THE UNCOMFORTABLE BED IN YOUR ROOM AT S.H.I.E.L.D HQ, WHILE YOU STARED AT YOUR BODYGUARD. He was sitting on a chair across the room, reading a James Patterson novel; you'd finished your novel ages ago and it had now joined the ever-growing pile of books at the foot of the bed. Being holed up in the tiny, sparsely furnished room was enormously arduous and you must've finished at least fifty books in the short time you'd been occupying the space.

The trip to Stuttgart – albeit life-threatening – had been a welcome oasis, and with every dreadful second that ticked by on the unnecessarily large clock mounted on the opposite wall, you found yourself wishing that you had an excuse, any excuse, to leave the holding.

You tore your eyes away from Brendon and they flickered to the journal lying next to you on the bed. Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you opened the book, doing a quick once over of the pages you'd read too many times to count.

"Brendon?"

"No."

You breathed out in exasperation. "You didn't even know what I was going to say."

"Yes, I did," he responded, not even bothering to look up from his book. "You were going to ask me to tell you what The Director wouldn't."

"I was not."

"Yes, you were. In fact, you've spent the past," he glanced at his wrist watch, "thirteen minutes, thirty-seven seconds trying to figure out how to go about it. And how to try and convince me to spill everything when I inevitably said no."

You clenched your teeth as your heart rate began to increase. For someone who claimed he couldn't read your mind, he sure as hell seemed to always know what you were thinking. "You can't lie to me, (Y/N)," he reminded, "You're easy to read."

"So you admit that there's things everyone's not telling me?" you quizzed as you folded your arms, feeling vaguely triumphant that you'd cornered him.

"No. I was only acknowledging your thought that there's something everyone's not telling you."

"Look," you sighed, hopping down from the bed and walking over to Brendon, who finally put his book down – with an eye roll – when you appeared in front of him. "I know you don't really do the whole 'human emotions' thing," you started and he raised an eyebrow, "but I've been lied to for most of my life and honestly, I'm getting real sick of it. If there's something big that I'm being kept in the dark about, then please, if you have even the tiniest shred of humanity, tell me what it is," you begged, voice shaky.