Chapter II (Your POV)

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Bring, bring. The sound of your phone ringing cuts through the thick, dark, morning silence, waking you. Groggily, you grab it, flipping it open and holding it to your ear. "Yello?" You answer it, using a 'y' in the stead of an 'h'.
"Is this (y/n)?" The caller asks.
"Depends on who's asking."
"This is very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo."
       "Ah yes, Kate's friend from work. What did you want?"
       "I just wanted to say that you're exquisitely gorgeous and ask if you would ever want to go out with me?" You can hear the smirk in his voice as you roll your eyes. Despite your better judgement, you agree.
       "When, where, and what time?"
       "What about Friday at six? I can take you to this quaint little cafe I know of."
       "Sure," you agree with a sigh. A click on the other line lets him know that you've hung up. You rub your head, rolling out of bed to go shower, where the water wakes you up fully. You didn't trust Agent DiNozzo—you didn't trust any men like him, and were a more than a little biased against them. Having read enough stories and watched enough movies, you knew that men like him—who wore the most expensive clothes they could and loved for looks—only ever wanted a short-term, purely sexual, no-strings-attached relationship.
       Still, there was something about him that drew you to him. Maybe he wasn't all bad, maybe there was good underneath. As you step out of the shower and grab your towel, you reprimand yourself—first for agreeing to a date with him, and secondly because it was far too early to think about anything.

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