â this is your bodyguard for the next little while, agent brendon urie. â
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â
ðððððððð ððððððð ðððððð.
ððð ðð ððð ððð, ððð-ðððð.
ðððð ððð ðð ððð...
Note: I want this comment section to be overflowing with comments. Blow up my phone. Make my Wattpad crash.
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ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀᴛʜɪʀᴛʏᴛʜʀᴇᴇ: ᴄʀᴀsʜ
❝ɪғ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴs ᴛᴏ ʜᴇʀ... ❞
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"NO. NO. FUCK NO. NO, NO, NO. OVER MY DEAD FUCKING BODY. NO."
Pure disgust, rage and a hint of disbelief was the blend of emotions conveyed by the scowl on Brendon's face and the scrunching of his fists. He was making it very clear how he was feeling, and The Director bowed his head slightly and held up both hands while entering the room in a silent request for Brendon to hear him out.
"I have my reasons."
"There is no fucking reason good enough to constitute this," Brendon hissed, glaring as he scattily gestured at the man accompanying Fury.
"Do not swear at me, Agent," Fury retorted, face stern and voice as cold as ever.
"I'm sorry, sir," your bodyguard cast his gaze to the tiled floor and shook his head languidly. Then, a moment later, "Actually, no. I'm not. With all due respect, sir, what the hell are you thinking?! He-"
"Like I said, Agent," Fury clenched his jaw, "I have my reasons. And I would gladly appreciate it if you shut the hell up for ten seconds and let me convey them."
Cold, hard silence was all he received in response.
"Fantastic," with a sarcastic smile, Fury glanced over at his guest, rousing everyone else to do so as well, "Given recent events, I am well aware that his presence may seem a bit strange, but I wouldn't have invited him to join us if I wasn't one thousand percent sure that he had nothing to do with it."
