𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗦𝗜𝗥𝗘𝗡 | 𝗡. 𝗥𝗢𝗠𝗔𝗡𝗢𝗙𝗙

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𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐭𝐡'𝐬 𝐀𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭

━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━

Truth was as far away from the world as possible. 

She sat at her kitchen island with one leg bent on the stool, her mind solely focused on the task in front of her and the music that flooded her space:

i hopped off the plane at LAX
with a dream and my cardigan
welcome to the land of fame excess
woah, am i gonna fit in?

jumped in the cab, here i am for the first time
look to my right and i see the Hollywood sign
this is all so crazy
everybody seems so famous

Studying the blade in her hand, satisfied with its sharpness, she brought the small bottle of oil closer and picked up a cloth as she sang along with the lyrics.

my tummy's turnin' and i'm feelin' kinda homesick
too much pressure and i'm nervous
that's when the taxi man turned on the radio
and a jay-z song was on
and a jay-z song was on
and a jay-z song was on

so i put my—

The song abruptly changed just before the chorus. Truth frowned, but let it slide when she recognized the new song.

it's a beautiful night
we're looking for something dumb to do

hey baby
i think i wanna—

Once again, the song was skipped. Annoyed, Truth glanced up at Heidi, who stood on the island, nose hovering over her phone.

"Now you don't like Bruno Mars?"

Heidi flicked an ear. Then she skipped another three songs.

"You know," Truth said, eyes returning to the blade to inspect it. "You're the one who chose this playlist."

Truth Castello had a lot of knives. And, sure, she was an assassin, so it was expected, but even the most driven assassins didn't usually keep several cases of all the knives they've collected over the years.

Maybe Truth was a little nostalgic. Or maybe it was a result of having perfect recall, because she found it was easier to categorize her memories when she tied them to an object.

Every knife she owned had its story.

The one in her hand now had been a gift from Coulson. It was a Scottish dirk knife, its steel hilt a throwback to medieval times. He had given it to her just before her first solo mission at S.H.I.E.L.D—the last day of her probation. As her probationary agent, he had acted like a father dropping his kid off to college, and she and Michael had teased him about it for days.

But, staring at the blade, she remembered what he had said when he had handed it to her:

"You did this. All of it. You made it here. And you should be as proud of yourself as I am of you."