I close my eyes as a surge of exhaustion from the day rushes over me, my eyelids refusing to open again. I sit there for a moment in silence, Damn I could go for a good smoke right about now... but I have no idea where the hell my suitcase is.

Ever since a few months ago, I found that one of the only things that could help me cope with the pain of his death was either alcohol or a good cigarette, and since a streak of alcoholism runs through my family, I decided a cigarette would probably be the better choice.

I hate that I've had to turn to smoking to help me, but when the weight of the world rests on your shoulders, it seems pointless to turn to someone for help with your own insignificant problems. It makes you seem like an unworthy burden for another to take on, and in the end, their help is all for naught.

I let out a shuddery breath as my mind grows relaxed. I'll just wait here for a bit... just until that cocky agent shows up.

***

I awake with my forehead resting on my crossed forearms, sucking in a delirious breath as I lift my head and squint in the darkroom. I don't remember turning the lights off-

My groggy thoughts cease when my eyes land on a dark figure across the room, who sits facing me at the end of the table, his jade eyes glowing in the darkness. I can barely make out a smirk as he rises from his seat and walks across the room to switch on the lights.

"Punaise! You slept as if you would never sleep again, I was worried you wouldn't wake up." he chuckles, crossing his arms as my eyes take a second to adjust to the bright light, grimacing when I see that the intruder is Beau Allard.

I rub a hand across my droopy eyes as I stare at him wearily, before averting my eyes when I remember the last time we saw each other, and how I had been sobbing into his shirt. My cheeks heat ashamedly at the thought, and how weak I must've looked.

Beau uncrosses his arms and scratches at his neck awkwardly. "Oh, you must be thinking about before," I flinch, cursing myself for being so readable, as he plows on."Look, don't fret about it... I-"

"You understand?" I finish, scoffing as I shake my head. "If I wanted to talk about it I would've looked for a therapist. Now are you going to show me to my room or not?"

I see Beau stiffen out of the corner of my eye, but he decides not to take the bait. "Follow me," he says quietly, and opens the door leading out of the conference room.

I begrudgingly follow, quickly passing him when he holds the door open for me.

We walk down the hall in silence, past the sparring room and towards the staircase that I had taken earlier in the day to get to the cafeteria. When we reach the bottom of the steps, I notice that the cafeteria is eerily quiet and empty as we pass through towards the back, which has another set of wooden doors.

"What time is it?" I quietly ask, as Beau jolts slightly, reminded of my presence.

He glances down at his watch, his lips forming a thin line. "Eleven o'clock at night."

"Eleven? Ho-how long did you let me sleep?" I stutter in surprise, my eyes wide as I stare at Beau.

He glances back at me with his green eyes, which I quickly look away from, remembering my shame. "You slept for about five hours after your meeting with Superior Harks. I didn't want to wake you up because I knew you had... a hard day."

I nod as we step up to the doors at the back of the cafeteria, which Beau is quick to hold open for me yet again. Ever the gentleman, I think to myself, gritting my teeth at the awkward silence that falls upon us again, yet I refuse to break it.

I can't believe he let me sleep for 5 hours! How long had he been watching me? Did Superior Harks know?

I can't help but feel my heart soften, appreciating his decision to let me sleep in peace... though I find the thought of him watching me sleep extremely unsettling. It's sad how the only place I can sleep peacefully is any place but my bed. I shake my head, dreading when I will eventually have to sleep like a normal person in a bed... and face the nightmares.

We walk through yet another dimly-light hall, until the empty grey walls suddenly have a series of black doors, each door having a room number beside it... almost like a hotel.

Beau sees my confusion and stops at room number 5. "We have rooms for agents who are in extensive training or missions... this room will be yours" he then points to room number 4 on my right. "That room is the room that medic Rene will be in, so if you ever need her you can just knock. To be honest, I didn't know she worked as a medic here until today," Beau laughs, rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly.

I nod, but then he points to room number 6 on his left. "This will be my new room, as Superior Harks has decided he uh..." I raise an eyebrow when Beau pauses hesitantly, his adam's apple bobbing with a gulp, "wants us in close proximity."

I can feel my lip curl as Beau shakes his head, our discomfort with the situation mutual. At least we both feel the same way about this situation.

Beau then hands me a single key with a silver keyring. "Anyways, here's your key. I will wake you up at five am each morning to begin our combat training, as I'll have to deal with our-er-my mission during the day, and then we can resume where we left off when I finish with my duties."

"But, don't you get any free time to yourself?" I can't help but ask, ignoring how he corrected himself when saying our mission. There's no way that he's going to be able to do my stupid training thing and handle our... his... mission.

But Beau merely shakes his head sadly. "Unfortunately, I won't have much time to myself. But that's alright, because Harks gives me the weekends off anyways."

"The weekends? Don't you think it's pushing it when you're working the entire day and having no time to unwind... to defuse?" I continue, not being able to contain my appallment towards the situation.

I mean I may be a workaholic too, but for entirely different reasons... not because I'm worked to the brink of exhaustion by my boss!

Beau gives me an exhausted attempt at a grin. "Careful now, you're starting to sound concerned." he digs, testing my patience.

My appallment immediately vanishes, replaced by straight annoyance. I jam the key Beau gave me into the lock of the door and twisted it open, sending a scathing glare over my shoulder at Beau.

"Goodnight-" he starts, but I slam the door in his face.

That's what you get... dick.

I flick on the light switch of the room, as my eyes take in the four small grey walls before me. On my right lies a medium-sized bed with black sheets and two white pillows, my eyes landing on my black suitcase, which is set in the middle of the bed. In front of me is a sliding glass door that leads out to what seems like a balcony, and to my left is a single small wooden dresser, probably for my clothes and weapons.

I quickly step towards the bed and grab my suitcase, unzipping it to retrieve my pack of cigarettes. Just as I reach for them, my fingers brush a glossy piece of paper. Confusedly, I pull the paper out to see it's a photo of my family from ten years ago.

How the hell did this get in here?

I slid my hand back into the suitcase to pull out my pack of cigarettes and a metal lighter, before walking over to the screen door and pulling it open, a chilly breeze smacking my face. I light the cigarette and hold it to my lips, taking in the glowing city before me as I take a long drag.

To my satisfaction, I see that directly in front of me is the luminous Eiffel Tower. Surrounding the tower is a slew of apartments, office buildings, and even off to the right glows the Louvre.

Another gust of wind blows towards me and makes the photograph flap in my hand. I finally look down to take in the weathered photo, as the darkness around me seems to lighten slightly.

In the picture is my blond-haired mother and, at the time, my 5-year old sister, who clutch each other with their mouths gaping open in a giddy laugh. Besides them are my dad and I, who both have jet-black hair, as it runs in the family. We're each holding a painted pot with a single green sprout in each of them, our smiles as bright as the sun.

I can't help but smile at how content we all look, drawn together as one big happy family. My father and I had just decided, before the picture was taken, that we wanted to plant our own little vegetable garden. My mom and little sister were too busy laughing and playing with the orange butterflies in our backyard to help, so we had to make it all by ourselves.

Just as we had gotten started planting, my uncle urged us to stand together so he could take a family photo. He was quite the photographer at the time, working with the New York Times by getting photos for their newspapers.

My fingers brush across the center of the photo, as I tap the cigarette against the railing of the balcony, sending a streak of ash floating through the air.

Now, my mother and 15-year old sister live in the ginormous city of New York. My father had sadly passed away a few years after the photo was taken, in a house fire while we were all living together in New York, and my uncle hasn't been seen since.

I couldn't say how long I stayed out there in the cool air of Paris, watching the bright city below and reminiscing about the happy times of my past, before I finally decided to return inside and try my luck at sleeping in the comfy bed of the room.