It's just a job.
That's what they all keep telling themselves, knowing it's a lie built on comfort and nothing else.
It's life or death.
For Y/N and Bakugou, the longer they take to catch the person responsible for all the murders going around, t...
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LATER THAT DAY
I watched as she did her best to even her facial expression, but there was no avail. Seeing through her vailed facade was simple.
I wanted her out of the way, I wanted them both out of the way. They were getting too close, no doubt the warehouse would need to be abandoned after it becomes a crime scene.
However, her lack of resistance surprised me. I expected a struggle, crying even. But her weary expression was simply that, there was nothing hidden behind it and I wondered what was really going on in her head.
I continued to lead her to the back, a place that had tarps laid down at all times as a just-in-case.
The gun itched in my jacket.
She must have felt the itch as well.
I felt my arm being twisted, painfully, as she swung he arm in the circle to get my grip off. If I had been expecting it, she wouldn't have gotten away with it so easily.
Why wasn't I expecting it?
I felt an anger growing inside me. As soon as I whipped around, ready to make my own move, a fist connected with my face. The force of it knocked me off balance and my ears rung for a moment.
I rushed to correct my posture and attack when her third hit landed in my gut. I doubled over as queasiness and a throbbing pain surfaced. It was hard to bite down.
I heard boxes tumble down. I looked up to see she had knocked them over as she ran to put more of a barrier between the two of us.
I rushed to run around it, and when I did I saw what she was reaching for.
Her purse.
I felt my face twist into a sneer as I chased after her. This was stupid. How did I manage to fail twice now?
The boiling outrage I felt spurred me into action. I chased after her, watching her form bend down and rush to grab the contents of her purse that had spilled onto the floor.
Her hands were shaking.
I reached into my jacket and grabbed my gun. My hand brushed my leather bound notebook, and in my rush to grab my gun I knocked it onto the floor. I hardly noticed it.
