Believer 22 || 707 x Reader

S i x

[Y/N] didn't know why, but seeing Seven and MC flirt made her a slight bit nauseated. She couldn't understand the concept of flirting. What was the point? What was the point of showing affection if you couldn't act on it? Surely 707 knew he couldn't get close to MC, no matter how much he liked her. It was too dangerous. Not only for MC, but for him as well. Wait... Why did she care so much anyway? 707 would be dead within a matter of days. The thought unnerved her for some reason. She didn't like it.

She stood up and shook the thoughts out of her head. She decided to get ready for bed, not that she'd be sleeping anytime soon. She needed to see what she could find out about Agent 707. Perhaps she could find his relation to Saeran. Perhaps if she worked hard enough...

Remember, [Y/N]. The only way to succeed in life is through hard work. You must earn what you want through hard work and dedication. Louisa had told her that not long before she left.

She chose to ignore the unwelcome memory as she made her way to the restroom for a shower. After closing the door behind her, she turned the shower faucet. Water streamed from the shower head, causing steam to begin to rise and fog the mirror. She slowly stripped her clothes off and stepped into the shower. She sighed contentedly as the hot water hit her skin. She allowed her eyes to close, and her mind went blank for a blissful twenty minutes. That would be the closest to sleep she planned to get that night.

After her shower, she put on a lilac camisole and a pair of black spandex shorts. Then she pulled out her equipment and got to work.

⤜⤞☆⤝⤛

[Y/N] woke to cautious knocking at the door. Half her face was resting on her keyboard, and a puddle of drool was collecting next to the touchpad. Shit. She'd fallen asleep. She shot up off her bed and rubbed her eyes.

"22? You awake yet?" Seven was calling from outside her door.

"Coming!" She responded. She slapped her laptop closed, ran her fingers through her disheveled hair, and wiped away the remaining drool on her face. It would have to do.

She opened her door to find Seven shaking his head in mock disappointment. "Tsk, tsk. Oversleeping on the second day of work. For shame."

[Y/N]'s eyebrows creased in confusion and she checked the time on her phone, which was still tucked in the waistband of her shorts. "It's only like 6 AM," she said. When she looked up, Seven was looking away. His face had turned a bright shade of red, almost matching his hair. It was then that she realized what she was wearing. She could feel her face heat up as she self-consciously pulled her cami up to cover her cleavage.

"I-I was messing with you. I just wanted to let you know that I made breakfast," sputtered Seven.

"Thanks. I'll be right down," [Y/N] said with her arms crossed protectively in front of her chest.

Just when [Y/N] was going to hole up in her room in humiliation, Seven spoke. "Oh, and 22-- Not sure if you were aware, but you've got a serious case of waffle face. Just thought I should tell you." Then he cheekily walked downstairs.

That little shit, she thought. She brought a hand to her left cheek. Sure enough, she could feel the imprint of the keyboard still displayed on her face. She was scared to look at what nonsense she'd unintentionally typed on her laptop.

She pulled on the same hoodie from the day before, then went downstairs. She found Seven struggling to lift an egg off the pan. He smiled when he saw her. Her stomach flipped. Huh. I guess all that work last night made me hungry, she thought.

[Y/N] glanced at the slightly burned omelette and rice, then back up at Seven's face.

He chuckled apologetically. "Vanderwood said I should try to cook something for once. If you get food poisoning, it's his fault, not mine."