You woke up in a dark room and yawned. Wondering what time it was, you reached for your phone on the nightstand when you felt the ropes tied around your wrists. It suddenly began to dawn on you that you didn't remember going to bed or it being night time. This wasn't your house and you weren't even laying down.
After attempting to flail your arms around for a moment, it all came rushing back. You had walked past that same pub again and looked through the window trying to find him, but he wasn't their. This was odd to you. He was always their at 9:15 sitting at the bar reading the newspaper.
You had fully passed by the window and stopped. Were you honestly about to do what you thought you were about to do? Could you seriously be this pathetic?
Yes.
Turning on your heels, you began back in the opposite direction... that you had just came from... and now were walking back towards... just to see if he was their. You tried to look as normal as possible, but you were scanning the entire perimeter and no sign of him.
Finally, back at the opposite side you thought if you should walk back again or if that would shine through your true abnormal, creeper self. Deciding to not draw anymore unwanted attention on yourself, you took a rough detour through the alleyway that led behind the pub. It was the easiest way to get back on track without passing infront of the same window three times.
That was the last thing you remembered. How had you gotten here? And why were you tied up?
"Good, youre awake."
One singular light turned on, the brightness too much for your eyes to handle after being left alone in the dark for quite some time. You allowed your eyes to adjust and looked around to see who had done this.
He kept himself in the dark. You squinted around trying to keep your sights on him, afraid of what this stranger might do.
"Who are you? What's going on?"
He pushed his way into the light and right up on you, leaning his hands on the arms of the chair you were sat in. "I'll ask the questions!" He barked. You recognized him. It was the guy from the pub you had been looking for. Now you were more confused than ever. "Who sent you?"
Silence. You blinked, realizing that he was talking to you. "What?"
"Don't make me repeat myself. Who sent you!"
His yelling made you hot... in a bad way, but also kind of in a good way. Still though, you didn't know what to say.
He continued. "Was it MI6? Brixton?" He was now circling you. This interrogation was oddly turning you on, so instead of saying anything embarrassing or foolish you decided to opt for silence. You wanted to see where this was going. He laughed like if he had figured it out. You were certain he hadn't, but his laugh was devilish. If you could've, you'd have jumped him then. "Oh, clever girl. It was Cipher, wasn't it?"
You held your silence and allowed him to pole vault to each of his own conclusions.
"That she-devil, Cipher. Sending a spy to watch me every morning and figure out my routine. Probably wanting to get me where it hurts most," he looked you up and down," And sending the sexy spy was the way to do it, aye? Well, you tell her that if she wants to dig up some dirt on me," he closed in on you again, "that she should start digging in the graveyard, because my skeletons aren't hidden in closets."
Sexy spy, you thought to yourself. Wow, if only.
"What's your name?" You asked nonchalantly.
He squinted, confused. "The prick that put you up to this never even thought to give you my name?" He questioned. "Shaw. Deckard Shaw."
