Kim Crawford - Unknown Location - 5:58 (A.M.)
Not only had I been woken up at four-something-o'clock in the morning, but I had also been forced to walk at four-something-o'clock in the morning.
From my tired state I managed to understand that it had something to do with keeping it under the radar, and he was scared that they'd easily be able to track the license plate had we taken the car. I was not awake enough to make a convincing statement against it, so I just complained like a child for 5 minutes while getting ready.
The walk was quiet, and eerily so. Few cars were out and about, and we spent most of the time in shady, narrow alleys that could barely fit two people.
Neither of us spoke, and I was grateful for that. I had a bittersweet taste in my mouth from yesterday, and I wasn't sure how our relationship would develop after what had happened. What we spoken about the previous night wasn't something I would just tell a random partner in a mission, but I also knew better than to establish connections stronger than simple partnership. Even friendships were risky.
My thoughts drifted every so often, and my attention would occasionally drift to the colorful splashes of graffiti or the broken glass on the gravel, but it would always eventually lead back to last night.
I wasn't sure what was going on in Jack's head, and a part of me desperately wanted him to open his month and say something, anything, but the rational part of me kept me grounded. I had already crossed the line of professionalism, and I had to keep myself under control. I had been hurt one too many times, and my scars were a reminded of my mistakes.
Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.
The one reason I was grateful my mind was focused so much on Jack was that it kept me busy. It kept me distracted. I had dug something up yesterday that I had tried endlessly to forget, and I was too exhausted to cover it up again. So, I just had to try and look the other way.
Easier said than done.
As my mind ran a mile a minute, a figure halted in front of me and, had it not been for my training, I would have probably crashed against his back and fallen to the ground. Luckily, though, my reflexes stopped me, and suddenly my lips were inches from touching his navy blue shirt.
He turned around hastily, and was taken aback from our proximity. Nonetheless, he didn't budge. He didn't move.
I looked up at him with a confused expression, but just as I was about to open my mouth he beat me to it.
"Are, um," he stuttered, and looked to the ground for a split second before snapping his gaze to the sky.
After a few seconds of staring at his Adam's apple bob up and down, his gaze found mine again.
"Are you okay?" He asked, his voice raspy and uncertain. An instant after the uncertainty turned to panic, and he quickly tore his gaze from me. "I mean, I know you're not, but... you know," he finished, although the sentence was in no way complete and his lips seemed to try and formulate a sentence to no avail. He bit his lip in frustration, and ran a hand through his soft hair.
It was odd, seeing him like that. He was usually so sure of himself, so confident. Years of being a spy had given him a rigid exterior, one he rarely set aside. Now, though, it seemed like he were just a normal boy.
It was cute.
I wanted to tell him I wasn't okay, and that I didn't know if I ever would be. I wanted to tell him that I didn't know what to do, that I hated what he had done to me and I hated how I let it affect me so much and I hated how it made me feel weak. I wanted to tell him I was scared. So scared. I had been for a long time now.
I wanted to, but I couldn't.
Because suddenly I was lying on the ground unable to breathe.
* * *
So this chapter definitely doesn't make up for me going M.I.A. for the past two years, but I'll try to make up for the time I was gone. ;)
