BENEFACTOR || Assassin!Shawn AU

[1]

Inhale, exhale, 1, 2, 3. Inhale, exhale, 1, 2, 3.

His gym shoe clad feet rocked along with the rhythm he'd rehearsed like a prayer. Sweat incessantly dripped from his skin, soaking into his black, tight clothes. His rosy cheeks tightened every time he leaned forwards, boxing gloves smashing against the red punching bag.

He never stopped moving, never stopped focusing. His muscles strained and veins popped as he continued his assault, imagining his target in front of him.

Inhale, exhale, 1, 2, 3. Inhale, exhale, 1, 2, 3.

"Come on, Mendes!" He heard a distant voice call, willing him to move faster, stronger, harder. He tried his best to refrain from clenching his teeth as he exhaled heavily, eyes squinting from the sheer intensity.

Inhale, exhale, 1, 2, 3. Inhale, exhale, 1, 2, 3.

He began to try new things, new techniques, new angles, however his intensity never changed. He licked over his lips, feeling his body only gaining more momentum and power by the second.

Inhale, exhale, 1, 2, 3. Inhale, exhale, 1, 2, 3.

"And time!" The same man from earlier called out, his voice immediately followed by a chorus of pained grunts and groans from the other men in the room.

Shawn huffed as he finally backed away from the punching bag, still feeling the adrenaline rushing through his veins. His boxing gloves were totaled, the extremely tough fabric ripped and worn.

"Talk to the Mr.Kim about that later," He reminded himself under his breath, watching as his peers filed out of the large training room one by one until there was just himself and the head trainer left.

Shawn walked over to the mirrors aligned on the walls, looking himself over. His skin was covered in marks, bruises, and cuts, each one aching with every step he took. But this never bothered him. Each one told a story of a different struggle in his life, a different identity. They hurt, but they made him who he was.

"That's a new one." The trainer pointed out, staring curiously at the barely healing gash on the boy's back. "Ibiza?"

Shawn nodded at the man's allusion to his recent trip for a mission. "Yeah. I was almost to the helicopter when someone snaked me and we got into it. Cut me pretty bad with his knife, but you should've seen what I did to him."

The man smirked along with Shawn at his clever remark, patting him on the shoulder. "Glad you got out of there alright. I think you're on your way to becoming one of our best."

Shawn allowed himself to grin for the first time in forever at the man's compliment. The trainer walked away to join everyone else and Shawn leaned down to grab his gray shirt, pulling it over his torso before grabbing his gym bag and leaving the room.

His pace was slow as he made his way through the concrete, dimly lit hallways that he'd known for 6 years. Old, stern faces passed him as he made his way to the residence sector of the gigantic facility. A few people muttered hello's to him to which he merely replied with a nod, his focus tunneled.

His muscle memory led him to his steel door that looked the same as everyone else's around him. He pushed it open and slammed it behind him with a huff, tossing his bag down on his hard, uncomfortable bed.

He was glad to be back after 2 months, but at least in Ibiza, he got to sleep in generously padded hotel beds. Here, there was no such luck.

He looked around his room, eyeing over his few personal belongings.

In the corner of the room was an agency-approved laptop, with which he was only allowed to use the agency's browser and everything he did was monitored. Hanging just above it on the wall was his sister, Aaliyah's, diamond necklace. A tiny dresser was next to the bed in the corner, and along 3 of the walls were small carved tick marks, resembling each day he'd spent in the base.