⁂ 𝐴𝑡𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑐 𝐶ℎ𝑒𝑐𝑘𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑒 #1 | 007 story

#11 | 𝑂𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟𝑠

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The little city was overwhelmed by police cars in short time. The two agents found themselves buried between ants; everyone running from here and there.
On their way out, they had to fight the few of Bones's men which caught the police officers' attention and got them into a chase on feet in the sleeping streets.
Luckily, they got in an establishment that provides paid lodging on a short-term basis. Layla refused to call it a hotel. It was far from being it.

With what James had in his pockets, he got them a room to spend the night in. They couldn't be outside, had no connection with the MI6 and in the horrific state both of them were, they preferred to get themselves a break until the sunrise.
The room looked and smelled unpleasant, poor; the walls were dirty, no bathroom, no couches, nothing. Just a bucket by the door, a faucet, two substandard beds and a little table by the window.
James didn't speak a word the whole time. Not after what he had done. He took off his jacket, put his pistol on the table and sat on the creaking bed. His consciousness was lost somewhere inside his mind, overthinking his acts as he stared into emptiness.
Lay tried not to think about the consequences that would come along because of his act and went to wash her face.
"You.. okay?" She said, hoping that she would get him to talk. But he didn't.
"James, you're worrying me." Layla wiped her wet hands on her soiled dress, kneeling in front of her partner.
"We're partners. And partners don't hide on each others stuff." She paused, trying to get his eyes to meet hers. "Back there. What was that?"
"I'm in no mood." He simply replied, anger echoing in his voice.
"Okay. Fine. Keep whatever is stabbing you in until you die." She stood up and went to lay on her broken bed, facing the wall.
James let out a heavy sigh and covered his face with his hands, mumbling something.
"What?" Lay said, turning to look at him.
"He killed Irene." James repeated, this time with his hands off his face. "She was my only love. I tried to protect her with my life– I promised her I would. But I failed." His voice was low, filled with regret and guilt. "We were supposed to be on a vacation but everything took a sharp turn."
Layla sat up on the edge of her bed, listening with her full attention to each word he spoke.
"That bloody.. bastard killed her like if she was some animal." He sniffed, incensed.
Layla suddenly stood up and wrapped her arms around him, holding him close of her.
"I'm deeply sorry, James. If I knew this wound was this deep I would've not applied pressure on it." She couldn't imagine what he had been through, looking at someone you loved dead, in front of you in whatever way that psycho-killer described.
"I've never told anyone this before." He slowly wrapped his arms around her, his head resting against hers.
"I understand. We all have our secrets." She said in a whisper.
"Do you have any secrets?" She could sense his hand run between her long curls, both of them weirdly feeling vulnerable in the exact moment.
"I.. maybe do." She couldn't lie. He just told her something he would never say even if his tongue was on a table.
"May I hear it?" His eyes got caught in her gaze, staring at each others. If they just looked close enough, they would surely notice a burning white light, like if it was the reflection of their souls.

"I never told anyone about what happened on my third mission." She took a deep breath in, letting go of James, her eyes staring down. "I was around my twenties. I remember it was my first time working in a duo. M paired me up with William Barlowe and sent us on a long-mission journey kind of thing." James's eyes were watching her face, her body, her hands. "Our mission was easy : counteract them. With a little mistake I've made, they captured me. No one came to save me in the next days. I was left there, scared to my bones, stuck in a dangerous group that spoke a language I couldn't understand." Her breathing quickened, her leg bouncing. "They punished me to speak, and I refused. So they ended up putting me in a wooden post, fixed frame kind of thing."
"Pillory?" He asked, his eyebrows turning upside down, expressing something between worrisome and pity.
"Yeah. But it didn't end just there : I lost my.. cherry." Layla hated this memory with the pure bottom point of her heart. She wished nothing of it happened. She lost her virginity to one nobody as a punishment of theirs. She could still hear her own screams in her ears, the man taking pleasure in his doing. "I hate myself for how weak I was. This is why, I don't like people. This is why, I hate M."
A small yet shiny tear jumped off her eye's edge and rolled down her cheek. James's thumb hurried to wipe it away, placing his hand over her cheek.
"I'm starting to.. understand you more. I feel downhearted to your happening."
His touch sent a weird but real electric wave in her body, causing her to lean into his contact.
"It's fine. I'm starting to understand you too." She smiled watching him get closer of her, his face inches away from her own. She felt like her heart was going to jump out of her chest. James placed a soft, warm kiss on her forehead. He took his hand off her cheek and smiled.
"We better get some hours of sleep. Tomorrow will surely be.. chaotic." And on his words, he laid down on his bed, closing his eyes.
Lay who was still processing what just happened, and the still unknown reasons of why did she let him do such a thing, nod her head and joined her bed, immediately falling asleep.

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