Being a spy was never easy for Nicole, though it had always been her dream to become one ever since her mother had told her of the death of her father and how he had died with dignity by achieving some impossible feat—one of the many adventures a spy had to embark on, she assumed. She had always looked up to the father she had never met and a part of her longed for her other parent to comfort her. Her mother constantly attempted to be a sentinel and tried her best to become both parents to Nicole, but the father figure had always been missing. There was no one to threaten men who would throw her so much as a second glance, force her to stay away from men whilst making up wild stories about how men weren’t born with a soul, carry her on his shoulders after a trip to the playground or tuck her safely away when she was suffering from a broken ankle or a broken heart. She envied her friends, and always thought they were far too immature when they complained about their fathers and their known over-possessiveness. Nicole knew very well that her mother understood her vehement feelings regarding a father figure and she felt bad for her mother who never once showed any signs of giving up, hence trying to tell herself that having a father may be more negative than positive—whether she believed in that statement or not wasn’t a part of the deal she had made with herself.

Fast forward eight years. Nicole was fifteen, and as the daughter of one of the spies, it wasn’t hard for her to figure out the requirements of how to be considered worthy enough to be embraced and painstakingly trained by the agency. She was always on the ball, though due to the personal, challenging training she had received ever since she could walk had made her a tad bit prouder than the other recruits. She made a few friends, including developing a new crush on her senior: Lee Kikwang.

Her relationship with him had started off as an unadulterated relationship of a junior secretly crushing on her senior while he went around sleeping with other girls and that, in turn, constantly made her jealous though she had somewhat admired the fact that he was just so desirable; that, conclusively, made her melt into a puddle of jealousy with a pinch of anger and a stream of sheer self-consciousness. Nevertheless, her feeling had never waned, but did only the opposite due to his constant visits and signs of care for his junior, especially after her mother’s death. Their relationship hadn’t blossomed into anything more until three years later, when he had arrived at her house completely drunk and due to his drunken state, he took advantage of her—not that she complained. The next morning, the first thing that had greeted her was a note that replaced Kikwang’s muscular body; and on the note were two simple handwritten and evidently rushed words: I’m sorry and along with that was a fresh teardrop that involuntarily fell from her eyes.

The months that followed weren’t as bright as she assumed they’d be right before she read that note. He was blatantly ignoring her, though he would constantly stare at her when he assumed she hadn’t been aware. Nicole simply wanted her senior back, and she didn’t care if he didn’t like her that way anymore. She missed his strong arms wrapped around hers followed by a string of mumbles along the lines of ‘everything’s going to be alright’. She missed the way he would , or how his eyes would light up when she laughed at his lame jokes to save him the embarrassment he would receive from his friends.

He found her sitting in the corner of the deserted corridor—the same corridor she’d never fail to sulk in when she was hurt. His mind and heart had been fighting for dominance, his mind screaming to run away while his heart begging him to wrap his arms tightly around her and tell her that everything was going to be okay. Evidently, he had picked the latter when he found himself taking light footsteps towards her then sitting down and pulling her into his arms when silent sobs burst out.

He loved her…so much.

That was the gist of their relationship. It was a known fact that they belonged together, but the weekly break ups had notified the other women and men that the two of them were not to be messed with. They were each other’s rain and shelter; they were at a cowboy’s gunfight, and it wasn’t a matter of who shot first, but rather, it was a matter of who sacrificed themselves for the latter.