Hate you - DNF/Karlnap

2

Art by Sockpaws!
TW - mentions of death, mentions of kidnapping
CW - swearing

ONE YEAR LATER

DREAM -

Being a private detective wasn't really as fun as it sounded. Most of the cases I was faced with were some sort of missing pet. I got a lot of hysterical eight year olds knocking at my front door in early hours of the morning. Yet, every so often an interesting and exciting case would come along. A missing person, or a murder or a kidnapping where the kidnapper purposefully left clues behind. When someone came to me with one of those cases I got a rush out of solving it. And I always solved the case. I always got to the bottom of it. Unless of course that case involved Operative NotFound.

Operative NotFound was an enemy to me. He seemed to enjoy taunting me, every case that he was involved with would always have some sort of clue, one single piece of evidence on a blue piece of paper with the neat handwriting I knew so well. And I wasn't the only one that hated NotFound, after all he was wanted dead or alive in America and the UK.

The extent of my knowledge about NotFound was as follows:
He was male, or so he said in one of his clues.
He was around my age, also something he said in one of his clues.
None of his victims were ever found.
He killed my best friend.
He kidnapped my sister.
And he worked for the SBI, an assassin agency with operatives all over the world. The SBI had been producing the most well trained and dangerous assassins for years, no one ever met an SBI operative and lived to tell the tale.

I'd gone a little off the rails after my last case involving NotFound, he'd kidnapped my younger sister and I'd almost died trying to find her, I landed myself in hospital with two broken ribs, a concussion, a broken leg, a broken jaw and a fractured wrist. I'd been stuck at the hospital for a while and after I'd gone home I'd refused to work on any cases.

I shut out the rest of the world, staying indoors with all the lights off, all the curtains closed. The only time I really went outside was for food for me and my cat, Patches. I'd lived like that for almost a year, until my mom had finally showed up at my door and forced me to rejoin society.

I was still adjusting to this new life of actually going outside, but I was getting there, slowly. But even though I was doing better, a small part of me would always want revenge on Operative NotFound.

And one day, I was going to get my revenge.

————

It was an early Saturday morning and I was barely awake. The sun was filtering through my closed curtains as I stumbled around my kitchen, making myself coffee. I'd been up most of the night, staring at my ceiling as my mind raced a million miles an hour. There were many things on my mind, the most prominent being my advertisement for a housemate.

I'd been living alone with my cat, Patches for as long as I could remember, the only human that had entered my house in over a year was my mom. As I sat down at my kitchen table, a piece of toast in hand, I began to think about the advertisement I'd put up in town for a housemate.

Would anyone actually reply? Considering my reputation as the private detective that went mad, I highly doubted it. But still, I had hope that someone would see it and decide to give me a chance. I think I had some sort of mental image of me and my housemate being best friends, hanging out, laughing, telling each other everything.

Every time I pictured it in my head I could see my old best friend, I just wanted someone like him. He died two years ago at the hands of NotFound, yet another reason for me to hate the assassin. Losing Sapnap was sort of the start of my vendetta against NotFound, he'd taken my best friend in the world and I truly hated him for that.

Although Sapnap could never be replaced, I still had hope that I'd find someone who I bonded with.

My phone started ringing, pulling me from my thoughts. I glanced down at the caller ID, confused, no one ever called me. A smile appeared on my lips as I saw that it was my mom. I quickly picked up,
"Hi mom," I said, leaning back in my chair.
"Hi honey, just calling to see how the search for the housemate is going?" She asked, I could hear the caution in her voice.

Mom was always cautious when she spoke to me. Ever since I'd flipped out at family dinner ten months ago when she'd said that NotFound had disappeared. I'd been so angry, he was playing some sort of game with me, he'd taken my sister, pushed me off a fucking building, successfully landing me in hospital and then he just vanished without a trace.

I was so angry and I didn't have a way to channel that anger. I ended up breaking my mom's living room window with a chair before having a massive mental breakdown amidst the broken glass. That was probably the last time I went anywhere outside my house that wasnt the local shops.

I shook the memories out of my head and refocused on my conversation, "I haven't had any replies yet but it's only been a couple of days," I shrugged. I finished my toast and sipped on my coffee as mom started telling me about all the questions I would need to ask housemate candidates to make sure they weren't going to kill me.

Honestly, she acted like I hadn't been a private detective since I was eighteen. I started before I even graduated high school. I think mom liked to pretend that I had some normal sort of accounting job, she'd always been against me being a private detective, she hated violence and I seemed to be some sort of fight magnet. People just seemed to enjoy punching me.

I zoned out of what my mom was saying as I stared around at the kitchen, my mind drifting elsewhere. It mainly drifted to what it would be like, living with someone after so long of being alone.

The doorbell rang.

I snapped back to attention, confused. The only person who ever visited me was my mom and she was currently talking my ear off about the dangers of not knowing if your housemate is a serial killer.
"Mom, I have to go, I'll message you later okay? Love you, bye," Without waiting for a response, I hung up and shoved my phone into my pocket.

The doorbell rang again.

I slowly stood up, I felt a sense of fear as I approached the door, what if it was some sort of attacker? I stopped in front of the door and let out a shaky breath. Very carefully, I reached out for the door handle. I closed my eyes and braced myself before opening the door and letting the bright morning light spill into my darkened hallway.

I shielded my eyes against the unfamiliar light. I took a moment for my eyes to adjust.

There was someone on my doorstep. A short brunette boy with the fluffiest hair I'd ever seen, I had the strange desire to run my fingers through it, tangle them in his soft curls. He was staring at me with quite possibly the most beautiful eyes I'd ever seen, they were a deep brown and they looked somewhat like melted chocolate. I took in his flawless, pale skin and his defined jawline and his soft pink lips.

Oh my god.
Why the fuck was the most insanely beautiful human on Earth standing on my doorstep? And why did he look slightly familiar?

I suddenly felt very self conscious, my hair was messy and I was still in my pyjamas. The boy didn't seem to care though, a small smile appeared on his perfect lips and he spoke in the most mesmerising British accent I'd ever heard in my life.

"Um, hi, I'm here about the housemate thing? My name's George,"

Word count - 1381

A/N -
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