𝙧𝙚𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙘𝙝é | 𝙛𝙞𝙫𝙚 𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙜𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙨

XIII. time marches on... or does it?

five opened the container.

a fortune cookie was inside.

i took it out of fives hands.

breaking it open.

"TIME MARCHES ON...

OR DOES IT?"

it said.

under the message was a address, written in blue pen.

"Rain Quail, Rm 12"

"how'd she find us?" five asked.

i then remembered,

the candy she gave us.

i quickly reached into my pockets, and fives grabbing the candy out,

"what are you doing?" five whisper yelled.

i found the trackers, and stomped on them.

"the bitch is smart."

"me or her?"

"the more stupid one."

"so me?"

"no, she is the stupid one."

we quickly left, going to the address.

we met the handler,

sitting in a hotel room.

the lady from the doughnut shop was tied to a chair, sitting on the edge of the hot tub.

she couldn't speak.

"your sick."

"you made us killers."

i couldn't meet the woman's eyes.

she simply continued to speak.

she started to carcass five,

"oh how adorable you look in those school boy shorts."

i started to clinch my fist,

why was she touching him so much?

did she know?

was she doing it to piss me off?

after a second she walked over to me,

touching my hair, 

my face, 

my neck.

"oh how young, and elegant you look eight."

i didn't react.

five was looking at the two of us, glaring at the handler.

"don't you think so, five?"

"what?"

he seemed stunned by the sudden question,

like he himself had been staring at me, 

recognizing all the details on my body and face.

"i asked if you agreed with me."

the handler answered him simply.

five's face was now a light shade of pink.

"yeah.."

he sounded sheepish.

"i know about you two."

"what?" i asked, pretending to play it cool.

"i know you two are in love with each other."