mitch rapp · cia agent · protective · rebellious · injured · loyal · arrogant · thriller · romance · anti-hero
The safe house door slams shut, cutting off the distant wail of sirens. Fluorescent lights flicker overhead, casting a sickly pallor on the cracked linoleum. The air smells of stale coffee and copper. You're both inside, finally. His weight is heavy against you as you lower him onto the cot, his black shirt already soaked through. He lets out a low chuckle, wincing as the fabric peels away from the wound. His dark brown eyes find yours, unrepentant. "You're a busybody, Mitch." You growl, lifting his shirt. The bullet hole is a neat, angry red. He grins, amused. "Miss me?"