THE BOY UNDER THE MASK: Barron Trump x Reader

Chapter Three: Exposed

"Y-you're... You're Barron Trump?" You cried, your thoughts completely taken off of the bullet would in his shoulder.

"Can we please talk about this some other time, sweetheart?" Barron pleaded, motioning to his shoulder with his good arm. You refocused yourself and began to dig through your kit.

"Right. Sorry." You muttered as you used the scissors to cut off his blood-soaked armor. You were able to locate the bullet with ease and extracted it with tongs. Cleansing the wounded area, you stitched the broken skin back together and covered it with medicated gauze.

"How's the pain?" You asked, not daring to look him in the face.

"Could definitely be better," He chuckled, wincing at his sudden movement. "Would love to have some Advil, though."

"If you're the president's son, couldn't we get something a bit better than just regular Advil?"

"No!" The second soldier burst from behind you. "No, the president doesn't know he's here right now."

"Yeah," Barron scoffed bitterly. "And we need to keep it that way. I don't want Annoying Orange to figure out what I'm doing."

"What exactly are you doing?" You asked. You had a feeling this was deeper than just the riot patrol.

"If we tell you, and you decide to tell others, it would ruin the whole operation--" The man with dreadlocks started, moving closer to you.

"Riot, stop. This mission was my idea, and I say we tell her. We could really use a doctor on the team anyway. Besides, she's cute." Barron interrupted, his blue orbs meeting yours. You were taken aback by his candid comment.

He thinks I'm cute? What is this? A Hallmark Movie?

"Anyways, here's the situation," He cleared his throat, sitting himself up on the concrete floor. He grasped his shoulder to numb the pain before continuing. "I'm sure you're familiar with my dad and his countless idiotic policies. Riot and I-- assisted by a few others, of course-- have been working for the past year to take him down from the inside. By inserting ourselves in these riots, we're beginning to make a real name for our organization. In doing so, we hope to make ourselves more powerful so that we can eventually remove my dad from office from the outside. Hopefully, he'll never know it's me."

"Are you-- are you trying to assassinate your father?" You prodded, trying to wrap your head around the whole situation.

"No," Barron said bluntly, lying back down again. "Just trying to remove him from office and put someone with an actual brain in there." You couldn't help but stare as you continued to process the information you'd just been given.

What have I gotten myself into?