Note: I am a total slut for Taron Egerton and this chapter will give you a glimpse into that. Also, do yourself a favour and (when the time is right) listen to the song linked above. x
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ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀᴛᴡᴏ: ᴅʀᴏᴡɴᴇᴅᴏᴜʀ sᴏʀʀᴏᴡs
❝ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ sᴘɪʀᴀʟʟɪɴɢ. ❞
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THE RIDE BACK DID NOT DO MUCH TO HELP CALM YOU DOWN. In fact, spending four hours on a restrictively-spaced quinjet by yourself only fuelled your rage. So much so that by the time you stepped foot back on S.H.I.E.L.D property, you were practically a walking-talking pillar of metaphorical fire.
You strutted down the glass-windowed corridors dangerously, veins pulsing and glowing blue because your temper was only worsening with each second that passed. You were trapped in your own world, too lost in thoughts over how you wanted to rip Jacob Ross' heart out to notice anyone around you, and hell-bent on getting to the training centre so that you could obliterate an army of training dummies.
"(Y/N)!"
You ignored the call of your name not because you wanted to, but because you didn't hear it.
"Hey! (Y/N)!"
Your body was jerked to a stop by a firm hand grabbing your arm and pulling you back a little. When you turned to snap at the person, you were met with the confused face of Spencer.
"Hey, I've been looking for you," he said.
"Well, you found me," you pulled your arm back and shrugged, "What?"
Frowning a tad at your standoffish attitude, the other agent began explaining himself. "I caught a mission out in Italy. Naples. I was wanting to know if you wanted to join."
