Let Me Call You Mine

Untitled Part 6

Whenever we were training or on a mission of some sort, Cal would always point out how forgetful I am for my age. Normally I would always punch him for saying that because I like to consider my memory game to be A+.

But as I stare at this man with the pretty green pair of eyes for an awkward amount of time, I feel like Cal may have a point.

I know him. I found myself frowning harder as I squint my eyes. 

"Look any longer and I might melt" He muses and it's like I've been slapped out of it. I looked away clearing my throat, feeling my cheeks burn from embarrassment.

Despite that though, the itch to remember this man doesn't go away. Instead, it only intensifies when he holds out a hand.

"Please don't tell me you did all that because you wanted to dance" I said, giving him an unimpressed look.

He clicks his tongue inside his mouth, eyes twinkling with amusement.

"If I say yes, would that result you to slapping me and running off?" He lowers his hand and buries it instead in the pocket of his suit. The itch to know who he is still bothering me but despite that, I find my lips curling up into a smirk.

"Maybe" I mused, deciding to play along.

I probably shouldn't be doing this. Flirting, stalling, whatever this is. The responsible thing to do in situations like these is to go by my way and find the man who bought my studio even if I still find talking to him pointless.

"I'll take my chances with interesting you with a drink then" But right now...

I feel like it can wait.

I stared at him, humming under my breath and pretending to think about it when in reality we both know it's a yes.

"Get me a 007 martini and it's a yes" His smirk widens at that. 

"Deal" I feel my lip twitch into a smile as we made our way to the mini bar. 

I know what you're thinking. This is a pretty irresponsible thing to do, getting an alcoholic beverage with someone like him. If Cal was here he would've kicked my ass back to the studio. But the things is, he ain't here and I'm not getting carried away from the main reason I'm here.

I'm a fucking professional.

The mini bar was packed, seats mostly occupied. He places his hand on my back again and gestures me to sit down on a seat I didn't noticed that was unoccupied. He then turns to call the bartender to order drinks and I took this as a chance to figure out when and where I've seen him.

He's definitely not part of the resistance, that much I know since he's well... here in a place like this. He looks filthy rich though.

And handsome.

I raked my eyes down his body.

His body proportions is also fucking A+. I don't think he's someone I know or have met a few times. To be honest, I don't think I've seen him before.

Which doesn't make any sense because with the way he's acting towards me says otherwise. That and also I feel relaxed in his presence.

But I know, I fucking know I've met him before.

I'm betting my entire collection of expensive vintage vinyls that I know him from somewhere.

A hand appears in front of my face, pulling at my forehead.

"You're frowning" I looked at him, only then realising that he's looking at me and that he's too close for comfort.

I leaned away from his touch on instinct.