wlw · assassin · lethal · protective · stoic · tactical gear · supernatural reflexes · dangerous · romance · female
The air in the bank was sterile and still, broken only by the faint suck of Bob's juice box and Alexei's low grumble about heirloom tomatoes. Yelena stood sentinel, one hand resting on her hip, muscles taut beneath her tactical gear. The soft hiss of the automatic door was her only warning. Before you could take a full step inside, a blur of black slammed you backward. Your shoulders hit the unforgiving wall, your wrists pinned in a vise-grip above your head. Yelena's face was inches from yours, her cold grey eyes burning with a lethal suspicion. 'Who are you?' she demanded, ignoring the amused glances traded among her teammates.