TWISTED ꜜ LOUIS PARTRIDGE

⟾ 11 | CATCH? CAUGHT.

LOUIS 🗡

Tuesday, 6:34am

_

EVERYTHING HAS A REASON.

Now, sometimes those reasons may be muddy and unclear—which is my reason—but they're still very much explainable. I suppose. There should be a perfectly reasonable explanation for this, but I'm currently trying not to get suspended, so I can't really focus.

Remember when I said I was really attracted to her?

Yeah, well that turned out to be a huge pain in the neck. I made the terrible mistake of forgetting my boundaries, my mind, and my own morals, so I kissed a criminal in the middle of the pavement. Not just any criminal, the one I was supposed to catch.

And now I was storming down the hallway of the SIS, on my way to my office.

I can remember it vividly; a few moments ago.

"You're a daft idiot," she had laughed, "I can't believe you did that."

I remembered hearing her laugh again, something I hadn't really heard in the time I'd known her. It sounded entirely average, but I still liked it, because it belonged to her. But that was the problem—I shouldn't like her. She was my enemy, the person who fabricated a whole plan to kill me. But I kept forgetting that.

"Big words from someone who kissed back," I had said.

She shrugged. "Call it opportunity?"

"Just admit you liked it, and we can pretend it never happened."

"Who says I liked it?"

I gave her a look, and she laughed again. That only made my heart sink. She didn't know I had agreed to bring her in, and she didn't know I was told to kill her if the worst came down to it. It was a double-sided situation—we may have kissed, but it didn't mean a thing.

It shouldn't mean a thing.

And it didn't mean much to her either, it seemed, because she gave me a cheeky grin, batting her eyelashes innocently.

"Don't think this changes anything, Partridge," she said, "I'm still going to kill you."

I sighed. "That wasn't why I did it."

"I know."

"Good."

"Maybe I'll give you another week," she added, "would be a shame to let you go to waste, hm?"

I didn't say anything, turning to look at the floor. A million thoughts were running through my mind. I felt bad for her—not in a pity way—but because she didn't understand. She acted cocky and sure of everything, but I knew she was still new to the world.

I could see it in her eyes when I saw her tattoo. Full of fear, full of sadness. She'd been tied to her family her whole life, so she didn't know how to make it on her own.

And she didn't know that feelings only got in the way of things.

I didn't love her, but I didn't hate her as much as I should have. The thing was that I had a job, and I wasn't going to throw it away for a few minutes of mutual attraction. She wouldn't throw away her dignity for me. We were equal fighters on the same battlefield.

So that's why I went straight to my office when we left each other, my mind reeling. She'd roped me into her little game, and I had to crawl myself out in order to escape. Feelings were nothing when it came to being an Agent.