𝓃𝒶𝓅𝑜𝓁𝑒𝑜𝓃

// anywhere, plss <33

!! sassy

@-russianspies ||
            
            “A little.” He responded quickly to her stage whisper. Solo sighed frustratedly; he knew she cared about him which is why she was concerned. She was the only one who had /actually/ cared for him in a long time. Which is why he wasn’t used to it. Napoleon wasn’t good at listening to orders. The CIA knew that. He raised a hand slightly, trying show her that he was listening, well, partially. He had just found the heiress. “You are too having all the fun. I get to sit in a hotel all day and stare at a shitty off-white ceiling trying not kill myself from boredom.” He responded in a distracted voice before he was focused back on the redhead in front of him, “oh darling, jealous? Don’t be, you’re my type. Alone. Funnily enough though, your target’s girlfriend has my Rembrandt. Maybe we can work together? Hmm? Come on Nat.” He tried to convince her, almost like a young child trying to get something. 
            
            || <33 

She saw the shock in his sky blue eyes, taking over his handsome features. He looked amazing in that suit — although she would claim he did so wearing absolutely anything he wanted. With his attitude, any outfit worked in his favour. However, there was a special charm to a nice suit, admittedly. Natasha watched the change in his expression intently, noticing how he tried his best to regain his composure passed the initial surprise of acknowledging her presence. Her eyes never left his, even as he approached her, which had her looking up at some point given their height difference — the redhead let him guide her to the side without any resistance, just waiting for him to talk with her. She had her back against a column — the place was built like an ancient Greek temple. Beautiful, huge, majestic... made to cause an impression. But also with plenty of ornamented columns, that were absolutely very helpful for a spy —, her head tilted to the side as she listened to him. "Are you crazy?!" her voice was quiet and her words came out like a funny, stage whisper — unintentionally, though. "I am not having all the *fun*. I'm *working*." she clarified, checking their surroundings, before looking back up at him. "You know the owner of this place? The heir? A spoiled rich girl. Pretty... might be your type. Her boyfriend, though, he's a huge problem. My *target*."
            
            
            // absolutelyyy !! tysmm as well, dear xx

@-russianspies || 
            
            The man nearly dropped his glass, not expecting his better half to be there at the same event as he had been casing for the past two weeks. He may have been confined to a hotel room but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t make plans. Especially since the CIA assumed he was dead. Oh, he had plans. Napoleon was in one of his best suits and his target tonight was the heir of quite a bit of money…and priceless art pieces. He had missed this game, but most importantly, Solo missed being /out/. Now, Natasha was not supposed to be there. He quickly took her arm and pulled her to the side with him, bringing his voice down as he responded to her, “Nat, I’m fine. I promise.” His blue eyes watched her face trying to decide if he tells her the truth or lies… “This was my only chance at a missing Rembrandt.” He hissed softly, his gaze shifting back to the crowd to look for the heir, “plus, I couldn’t sit around twiddling my thumbs for that long while you get to have all the fun~” Napoleon purred with his charming smile. 
            
            || finally responding because them <33  tysm !!! 

/     don’t   cryyy — 

@-loadedguns- 
            /   pls

// anywhere you'd like <333

[ @-redspies ]
            
            “Mm, oh you don’t know /how/ lucky you are.” He quickly followed up before reaching into the jacket of his suit and pulling out a a couple bills. He placed them on the bar next to his drink and rose to his full height, buttoning the front of the jacket as he looked her up and down. “I know just the place.” Napoleon offered her his arm as he turned, ready to leave. “I just hope you don’t mind that it /is/ the room I am staying in for the night. It is quite private. No one will bother us for…” he paused to think about before the Cheshire grin returned, “well, for awhile.”