(The centre of the secret service organisation: Erriador Intelligence Services)
A lean, tall but we'll muscled blonde man walked in the door.
Heading up to the Chief of the Staff, he zestfully started up a conversation to which the gruff looking middle—aged man, sewed the mouth spitting complaints with a sharp look. The younger man dejectedly sighed and informed him about the reason of the summit with the Head of the Service.
The elder man routinely pressed on a switch and brought the black interphone to his ear.
"Sir, Agent Ace is here." He briefed in a, professional monotone.
"Let him in." The voice replied.
The middle–aged man placed back the interphone and glanced up at a turned off Ace.
Ace made a sarcastic remark and headed linearly toward a certain modern door situated at the end of the hallway. He knocked twice on the door. And a groggy deep voice said: "Come in.''
He opened and entered, closing behind the door. Walking in—he stood in a poised manner parallel to the man in his fifties, sat on a comfortable synthetic leather high chair.
"Good morning Sir."
Closing the file he was previously engaged in, the man finally gazed up at him.
"Morning Agent Ace. Have a seat." The middle aged man said.
Ace nodded and claimed the chair accross him.
"Another team job for you. We need Agent Czar back." He informed expressionlessly.
"He's been unreachable since the break." He sighed and took off his glasses, neatly placing it on the desk billed up with files.
This certain agent never failed to get in his nerves. The last time they met, they got into a conflict about Agent Czar dealing with the assignments in his own rash terms.
There were complains from the higher ups, but he was an important asset, one of the best in EIS, and they were complied to just sit back and swallow in their rage.
"May I know the details sir?" Agent Ace inquired the head of EIS, attempting to not sound too bored.
"Agent Grey was send to spy on Alfredo in Spain. We stopped getting intels from him a week ago. He's assumed dead by the higher ups. His last message hinted on the presumable regions in the country the terrorists could attack." He declares with apathy.
"Invade their territory and kill their chief. If Agent Grey did get caught, I believe him enough to not reveal any of our intelligences. But they'll come for us. Before that you will cease him."
"If its possible, bring back Agent Grey's corpse. He atleast deserves a proper burial." Elk allowed a hint of softness in his eyes.
Alfredo was the chief of one of the largest terrorist organisation. Before he was in the shadows, and his crimes were not as noticeable with all the wars and political conflicts, natural calamities going on.
But their resources had grown, and they got intel that someone influential from Erriador had been financing them.
And they had to arrest, or kill him before his crimes go causing unshrinkable holocausts.
"Got it Sir. Anything else?" Ace asked.
Elk glanced up at him, the sternness returning in his gaze. "Your team has two weeks to leave. Train your best. This might be a challenging task."
"And find your leader, as soon as possible."
"Yes sir." Ace returned.
After greeting him—with a wilted spirit he trudged out Elk's office.
---
Neva was in the library of her University, alone in a corner, a quiet desk afar from crowded group of students. She liked it better that way. Kept her more focused.
The first term examination was just around the curve. The bottom of a pen veiled with it's cover unconsciously between her lips, brain devouring knowledge.
As she leaned down to scribble notes, she released the pen with teeth marks on it.
Just then, a knock sounded making her jolt upright.
Another, soft knock knock...
It came from the large glassed window beside.
When she tilted her head to look at the source, her eyes widened the size of saucers. She gasped, mouth hanged open: for a foolishly grinning Rhett, only his head visible was there hanging moronically on the window stool.
She hastily got up and opened the window to let him in, before he could fall and his head burst open.
"What the hell?" Neva in disbelief looked at him as he climbed in. Then instantly paused and looked around, realisation hitting her that she was in a library, and her loudness did gain her squinted gazes from the people inside.
She bit her lips, praying they hadn't seen him come through.
She turned her head to glare at him, seated on the window sill, staring at her with gleaming eyes.
"I missed you Angel." He softly murmered. Too furious too care and melt, she maintained her glare.
"What in the world were you thinking?" She scolded in a hushed voice, scanning him from head to toe for any injuries. She sighed finding him just fine. Put together.
"Sit there." Neva ordered, gesturing at the chair accross her. He nodded happily, obeying.
Neva reached to close the window again, cold air blowing in, messing with the pages, and the papers in the small desk for two.
She instinctively gazed down, inhaling sharply at the height. The library was in the fourth floor, facing the backyard garden of Vernilla University.
The hours in the campus had cleared of most students, just perfect for him to sneak in.
Still it didn't make her doubt less at his horribly adventurous tactics, to stroll in with surveillance cameras and guards in the entrance.
She stared at his grinning face questioningly, elbow shored on the slab, chin cupped in his fisted palm.
Taking her seat, she closed her eyes, sighing loudly again.
"Why and how did you get in here?"
"I just missed you." He repeated.
And she blinked, then shook her head. "You'll be the dead of me someday Rhett. What if someone saw you?"
"I'm pretty good at not being seen." Rhett shrugged.
"What if you got hurt?" This time, she mellowed her voice.
Rhett's eyes softened, before a cunning quote flashed in his gaze.
"I'm already hurt anyway. It'll be worst if it's physical too. I can't let you be too stressed because of me." He affirmed.
"How are you hurt?" Neva squinted.
Rhett pointed at his chest. "Here. And you are the reason. So soothe me. Just be my lover. Please?" He rounded his eyes, doe and puppy—beggin' her love.
Neva ignored him. Flipping pages of the thick textbook of botany, finding where she left off for the wind messed the pages.
"Angel, let's go on a date." Rhett interrupted her.
"I'm studying Rhett."
Rhett huffed. "You're always neglecting me." He laid his head on the slab, looking up at her longingly.
Neva spared him a quick glance before focusing back.
Rhett's two longest fingers of the left hand, slyly, a crab slowly walked to seize away her hand.
Neva saw that through her pheriperal, and lightly slapped his hand before it covered hers.
"Oww!" Rhett faked.
"Don't bother me."
"I will. Unless you allow me in your heart."
Neva finally stared at him, while he straightened up—and their eyes lingered for unknown span of seconds.
"I don't really believe that you're—that into me." She broke off, making him frown.
"Are my feelings a joke to you?" He coldly asked.
Neva was taken aback.
She bit her lips, dipping her chin. "It's not like that. It's just, everything with you just seems unrealistic."
She gazed back up.
"What am I to make of you saying; you fell for me the first time we met. How is it anything but logical?" She softly, carefully uttered.
His face relaxed at that.
He smiled meaningfully. "Well, you see, that first glimpse of you was enough to pull me towards you, naturally. Yet, as intense force as a current, a gyre in the ocean, drowning me in your eyes."
"Those beautiful honey eyes." He whispered.
The swirling orange evening sun rays seeped through the window, painting her features in a mystical gold clarity.
The most beautiful person he's ever seen.
So heavenly.
It pained him.
Each second falling deeper, calling his heart to either wither away like the autumn leaves surrounding the campus, or a summon of life in spring.
But this road was still beautiful. For she's still beside him. Walking along, at his arms reach. No matter where it led.
Either dead leaves buried away, and still thriving earth with this unconditional, immortal love.
Or the life of love in spring, after the tough trials of winter.
Neva cleared her throat and glanced away, cheeks heated and rosy at his intense stare.
He really had a way with words.
Rhett's pupils constricted at the tingling in his chest. He was lost again.
He sighed. "This feeling is not under my control Neva. I don't know what to do with it."
And Neva felt shy, wanting to shrink away in her chair.
"And of course, there's no logic in love." He chuckled.
Neva's eyes widened a little. 'Love?'
How could he always be so casual about it?
Did he really mean it?
But still it couldn't be helped: this swirling in her belly. Something jittery, aching—almost pleasurable.
She lightly shook her head, smiling weakly.
"We barely know each other Rhett. And I get scared. For so many unnamed reasons."
"Then know me Neva. Allow me to tend to you." He whispered.
Neva said nothing.
The way of the world that she saw from the four walls of her room, it felt cruel and unjustified.
But it still didn't fade this flame in her heart to see more, to be more, and she believed in herself to go through all the seasons. Shape her to be the woman she would look up to in the future.
Love and romance. She never really thought about it. She wanted to be something, someone before anything else.
But still, she couldn't really feign off the tug in her chest, like he said; pulling her to him.
Nevertheless, the anxiousness remained; of the world failing her; him failing her; or rather her—waning herself.
"How about we get out of here first? Start with some casual dates?" He playfully raised his brows, lightening up the mood. Seeing her so offshore.
Neva pursed her lips. Then bloomed a beautiful flowery smile in her features.
And something inside him, a little leaf fell.
"Sure." She said.
And Rhett felt a bud of leaves in the naked, grey branches of trees in the winter of his heart.
Closing the books, she packed up all of the other things except the big textbook in her brown leather bag.
Rhett nodded with a grin. Spring wasn't so far away.