Fandoms1985

OK I'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT WHETHER OR NOT I SHOULD WRITE THIS FIC [IT'S AN ORIGINAL WORK] FOR A WHILE NOW AND GETTING YOUR OPINION MIGHT JUST BE THE BEST THING HERE.
          	
          	SO HERE THE STUPID PIECE OF WORK IS [AN INTRO, I'VE WRITTEN A LITTLE MORE]:
          	
          	PROLOGUE
          	
          	Renae’s heels clicked on the marble floor.
          	
          	Just to set the rhythm straight, part of her tried to make her pace match the beat of her heart.
          	
          	But she couldn’t. Her heart was beating too fast, and though she could walk rather quickly in heels, that wasn’t the point.
          	
          	Walking too fast would look suspicious right now, and that was the last thing she needed here.
          	Steadily climbing the steps of the Glass Hall, with elegant railings and a wide staircase leading to a central, large, wooden door, she lightened her steps, quickening her pace just enough to hide any possible tremors in her legs.
          	
          	With her hair brushing against her back as the wind rushed against her, swirling like the excitement she felt in her chest.
          	
          	This was it, she told herself.
          	
          	All these years, every day of training, every mission she’d spent wondering if a subpar result would have her replaced in the expectations laid on her. 
          	
          	Every second she’d spent wondering if she’d ever do something enough to secure herself in the perceptions of her fellow assassins that she was competent. That she was capable. 
          	
          	Not just a one-time success, but someone who could genuinely be exceptional, or at the very least, more than just a spare to someone better.
          	
          	It was all coming together. Coming down to this.
          	
          	She might’ve been making a bigger deal of it than she should’ve, but she deserved it today.
          	
          	Did she? Or was she getting ahead of herself?
          	
          	She forced the lightness in her chest to remain anchored, to settle in somewhere behind her focus right now. Maybe she deserved it. Maybe she didn’t. But whichever was right, nothing could be out of place tonight. 
          	
          	Especially not her, and definitely not just because of a feeling.