❝ they're young.
they're in love.
and they kill people ❞
━ time is never on their side. but no matter where or when or how they meet, the feelings remain
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⌊ . ocean eyes ⌉
EBONY'S LATENIGHT endeavors had left the trio with their only lead on Five: Ishmael's Towing Service. It was nothing more than a tiny garage littered with numerous tools and papers and two cars that look relatively new. Nothing in the shop really stood out to Ebony as something one of the best members of the Commission would stay in. It was too unkept and filthy, completely rivaling the way the Commission's countless assassins had been taught. Perhaps Five was trying to start anew, trying to throw away his old self. It was a rather pathetic attempt if so, and a failed one at that.
Despite the doubt coursing through Ebony's head constantly telling her that Five would never stay at a place like this, the trio had waited. And their patience was rewarded with a tow truck pulling into the front and an older man exiting his car. An older man that-at least from afar-looked like Five. But Ebony noticed the many inconsistencies.
After all, this was supposed to be the notorious Number Five that the Handler insisted Ebony couldn't bring down herself? A chubby 50-year old man who was easily taken down within mere seconds with no resistance whatsoever? Ebony had understood that Five was her equal or at least someone who'd she actually struggle to crush. The young girl had been beyond excited. She couldn't stop bouncing her leg and biting her lip in anticipation for the fight to come, even when ChaCha threatened to put a bullet through her skull. But she was utterly disappointed.
ChaCha and Hazel seemed to be having the most "fun" as Ebony sat at a near by desk, running her thumb over the picture of Five the Handler had given her. The pair had shackled the ex-agent's wrist with a chain and clipped car jumper cables to the his nipples (ouch). Electricity-a fine method of torture. ChaCha did most the talking which differed between asking Five useless questions like Why leave the commission? and How long did you think you'd be able to hide for? to straight admiration over his time in the Commission. Hazel tossed a question (and punches) here and there, but most of his time was spent making snarky comments and eating a sandwich he had found in the nearby mini fridge.
Ebony trailed her eyes from the pocket-sized picture in her hand to the face of the tortured man before her. She ran her eyes over his features, noticing the contrast between the living person and the frozen one in the photo. There was an uncanny resemblance. But then again, the chins varied, the space between the eyes differed, the dimple so prominent in the picture was nonexistent in real life, and his eyes. The ones in the picture were such a vibrant blue that held years of knowledge and dared you to cross him. They threatened to pull you into those ocean eyes and drown you in the waves. It was the eyes of the man Ebony wanted to fight and rightfully defeat.
When she looked up at the actual man before her, all she saw was fear. And while that fear that coursed through his body and out his eyes made Ebony's lips quirk, it wasn't as fulfilling as it would be when the real Five was made to wear that face. Also, he was crying, and the snot dribbling down his chin made her cringe in disgust.
