Kill Me/Kiss Me- An Alex Rider Fanfic

Nothing More than a Bad Movie

2:15 AM Goodchild Mansion, France

Walking into the dimly lit drawing room of her quarters, Hera pulled on an old jumper and collapsed onto a low sofa, putting her feet up onto he coffee table. Her area of the mansion comprised of three rooms: her bedroom, ensuite and drawing room. Daniel had given her the freedom to decorate her quarters however she wished and, unlike him, she had stuck to the 18th century French decor that the architecture of the mansion reflected. With gold bordered cream walls and duck egg coloured curtains and cushions, the place looked suited to royalty. Vases were filled with pink peonies and mauve roses, filling the room with a floral scent.

On the sofa, with it's blue, silk cushions and gold tassels, Hera picked up an iPad and hit a few buttons on the screen, the painting of ballerinas on the wall in front of her slid smoothly upwards to reveal the TV. Hera clicked a few more buttons and settled on watching something that did not require her full attention.

Of course, her mind was preoccupied with the events of the evening. Her usual cold and composed demeanour was being tested by her employer and Daniel knew very well how to test Hera. Her bottom lip trembled thinking about it. How could she possibly ask Alex to go back into her line of work? He was torn to pieces by the end of it; a shell of the man he once was. By the end of their career as a duo, Hera would spend evenings tending to a traumatised and exhausted Alex. Unlike her, Alex was too good a person, too kind and innocent for the work he was forced into. Wiping her eyes quickly, Hera glanced up to the chandelier above her as it rocked with the creaking mansion.

"Hey." Hera jumped as Alex spoke from her doorway; she hadn't even heard the door unlock.

"Hi." She replied, spying him in the darkness, dressed in the same clothes he wore at dinner. She had changed into her nightclothes; a pair of cotton shorts and an old t-shirt. The jumper she had put on, she blushed as she thought about it, had once belonged to Alex- a dark blue merino wool. Her hair in a messy bun and a makeup-less face, Hera did not feel as though she were ready for company.

She had no idea that to him she looked quite sweet; eyes puffy from crying, lips pouting and pink. Hera looked just as innocent and unaware as she did at the age of sixteen. Alex walked into the room.

"What you watching?" As he spoke, so nonchalantly, about something so insignificant, Hera raised an eyebrow.

"Game of Thrones." She answered uncertainly, watching him approach.

"Really?" Alex smiled a little; Hera had never seemed the type to watch that show. The girl shrugged.

"Nowadays everything is about superheroes and bad guys, I get enough of that in my day-to-day work." Alex walked past her by shoving her legs off the coffee table with his knees, before settling on the sofa beside her.

"Change it." He instructed. As he caught Hera's eye, the two stared at each other a moment. Hera bit her lip; why was he acting so aloof? Had he given in to Daniel's demands? Alex stared back at her with a cold, hard look, one she recognised as the 2:05 look: Alex was not in the mood to talk about work. So Hera picked up the iPad again and changed the channel. A particularly bad spy movie was on, featuring one of the worlds most handsome actors and some of the worst dialogue Hera and Alex had ever heard.

"Mindless violence?"

"Fine by me." Alex shrugged in agreement and the two settled down to watch the movie, both awkwardly aware of where they put their hands. The scene playing was one the two teenagers knew too well; the villain monologue. Where the hero is captured with a sure-death ultimatum and the antagonist of the movie has to spend a few minutes explaining why it is they're doing what they're doing. Alex noticed a small smile spread over Hera's face; the two had been in this situation enough to write their own script-