Desolation [h.s]

Chapter 28

Seraphina Amor

Maybe I was being reckless, and frankly a little bit untrustworthy, but sometimes curiosity gets the best of people.

Curiosity tends to kill the cat, doesn't it?

It's overwhelming at times, the urge to simply know and see everything when you don't have a full grasp on the situation. The overpowering and addicting call to just figure something out, to find out everything you need to know.

Curiosity is a powerful thing and not always in a good way, but not a bad way either. It's simply in the equilibrium of what you consider to be the scale of good and bad.

My eyes are trained on the photos in front of me, eyes darting over each detail that is on the screen as well as the hard copies that are spread across the table. The steady yet anxious tap of my finger sounds through the small office room, the only source of noise that has been heard for however long I've been in here.

I'm fully aware that what I'm thinking is completely reckless and a little irresponsible, but I just want to know it for myself.

The soft puffs of my breath graze the tops of my fingers as they curl in front of my face, palm supporting my chin as I continue to stare at the dead bodies of agents.

Fourteen were dead but I didn't even bat an eye, so used to the sight of blood and death as it's been the only thing that remained a constant in my life.

Death was normal for me, it was practically the inevitable.

A soft sigh passes through my nose as I finally let my eyes leave the photos and glance up at the clock that is perched on the corner of the desk. It's late, at least late for other people. The sun went down a long time ago, tucking itself beneath the horizon for the next few hours. Right now it was nearly pitch black, the only source of light being the small lamp that was placed next to me.

Harry went to sleep a little while ago, giving me a quiet goodnight. I didn't expect much from him and if I'm being honest, I'm a little glad he didn't try anything when we got back from Leon's place. He just lost someone that he seemingly knew pretty well, maybe not a friend but an acquaintance, and although he would never admit it to me, I could see the small amount of grief that pooled in the depths of his eyes.

I, on the other hand, was wide awake.

There wasn't an ounce of tiredness in me, not when my mind was racing and turning with curiosity. I wanted to know a few more things before Harry and I went searching for leads on the killings.

Despite the information that was given to me, I was missing out on some parts, things that were known between the three men that I was working with. I know I'm being left out on somethings, that they're not telling me everything they know about Pete.

I don't blame them, not even a little bit. We aren't friends, and truth be told, I haven't really done anything to gain their trust. To Leon and Wyatt, I'm simply their friend's partner for a job. I'm not in their little group nor do I feel the need to join it.

Soon enough this will all be done and we can all part ways. I'll walk one direction while the three of them walk another, never speaking to each other again.

The thought didn't bother me, going back to New York. That was where I was most comfortable, where I had my things and my apartment, the restaurants and stores I liked going to. I don't know if I would consider it my home, but it was the place I was used to, familiar with. I would be more of a liar if I said that I was comfortable here in London.

But, being in places that are out of your 'safe' place is part of the job and it wasn't really my place to complain about it.

My fingers drummed against the cool wood of the desk as I waited a few more seconds, making sure that I was surely going to be able to get out of here without being caught. When I heard nothing but the sound of my own breathing, I slowly pushed myself out of the seat I was sitting on, and walked around the desk then to the door.