On A Mission

Joséphine Gauthier, 17 years old has a french dad and a brittish mother. But her mother is not really the normal-housewife-mother, not at all. Since the age of 3, Joséphine has received the best practice she could ever have, so that one day, she could do the same job as her mother. I think you got it by now, she is kind of a spy. When you learn that you have a mortal malady, and that you have no choice but to accept all the missions you're offered, the last thing you want to do is to fall in love and get attached.

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3. some pussies that can't defend themselves

"So what? You want me to be some random body guard? Can't those pussies defend themselves? I have better things to do."

•••

I turned very slowly, putting a fake smile on, while I was innerly debating on wether this was because of my ten minutes of lateness, or not.

"Yes? What is it?" I said, my voice slightly shaking.

"Calm down," he said, "you're late, but that's not the matter." My heart rate returned to normal speed instantly.

"okay..."

"Well, there is this boy, he's very famous. He and his mates got these threat letters, that almost got real. In other words, they got attacked yesterday and luckily escaped it, with only a few wounds."

"So what? You want me to be some random body guard? Can't those pussies defend themselves?"I half-shouted. "I have better things to do." I stated before leaving. 

"Listen to me" he said, spitting through his teeth."You need this treatment and I need the money he's giving the agency. We both know it. Now, either you do this easy mission for a million dollars treatment, oryou go on this other mission- in Afghanistan. You get it?!"

I gulped. Gosh, he reminded me too much of my father. He scared me, and no matter who scares me, I manage to say yes in the end. And Mr Lively knew it. I frowned.

"You need to know two things. One: I'm not doing this for you. Two: you're a complete asshole." I said while leaving and showing my middle finger. I could really feel him smirk behind me. 

I felt the tears coming, I couldn't let someone see me like this (especially not Mr Lively), so I ran out. When I couldn't hold it anymore, I collapsed in a corner of a corridor and burst out crying. i sobbed so muched, I really hated it. No actually, I hated cancer, I hated Mr Lively, I hated my mom, I hated my dad, I hated my life. I started punch the wall really hard, I think you could hear it back in the gymnasium. I hate being a bodyguard, the person you protect litterally think you're some sort of slave or something. And that's what I hated. To depend on someone, not to know what is going to happen, receive orders. But I guess that's what I'll have to do in the job I'd like to do. I mean, the job my mom has forced me to like. Aw, I'm just sick of this!

My sob was suddenly interrupted by a pair of emerald green eyes staring into mine. Those were the only thing I couldsee through my tears though. Those eyes were really amazing, they were full of care, worry and...wonder? I couldn't tell. I closed my eyes, this was a little awkward. I felt fingers dry the tears that were rolling down my cheek, then the person sat down next to me.

"Hey, I saw you crying. Even though what you said wasn't really kind, no beautiful girl like you should be crying." the person said, the voice seemed like a boy's. But wait, was he the one who left boiling in fury?

"Wow, that was the cheesiest thing I've ever heard. Actually, I didn't think someone could ever say something as cheesy as that remorseless" I said, not in the mood for that shit. But he just laughed.

"I'm Harry, Harry Styles. What's your name?"

 

 

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