Rose was raised as a trained assassin at the age of 13 by her mother. She is emotionless for many years, immune to not feeling anything until her latest assignment goes wrong and a familiar face comes to haunt her. Can she correct her mistake or will it be a trap of her heart?
Three
Hours have passed since I returned to my hiding place and I haven’t slept a wink since the morning before. I was in a total fog but for some reason I was hyper aware of everything due to the fact that I had seen Rose. My mind was so preoccupied with the tanned skinned, chocolate haired beauty that had taken over my thoughts ever since I had first started training her.
When I had finally returned to my hiding hole, I had sprawled myself out onto the bed for a while, staring up at the ceiling, but had become rather restless and got up to only begin pacing the full length of my room. I was a huge ball of tension, all of my muscles flexing and wanting to spring into action at any second. There was no peace at all within my body, my thoughts a complete wreck from seeing Rose after more than a year.
After seeing her tonight I could tell that she was much more beautiful than she had been the last time I had seen her. Her hair had grown out a bit longer and was much more luscious than it had been. It was now more of a dark, rich chocolate than the familiar milk chocolate of my thoughts and dreams. She had become slightly taller though not much but she had built more muscle since I had seen her last. Rose had more curves from what I could tell under the clothes she had worn.
Black shirt, jeans and shoes, it was the usual assassin/guardian attire. I knew that she had passed her initiation into the Immortal Assassins and a sense of pride had washed over me with that knowledge. She was going to be really famous when she got up a bit further in age.
It seemed that without a thought she swept her long, creamy, dark chocolate hair over her right shoulder, exposing the skin at the nape of her neck. My eyes have zeroed in on that small expanse of flesh and I had seen the marks: what looked what an ‘S’ and the crossed lightning bolts, which signified she had finished her training.
My mind drifted back to the day I had found out that I would be mentoring Rose. I had no idea of who it would be at first and couldn’t believe my luck when I walked into the gym to meet with Alberta and ‘my student.’ My life was changed from that day forward.
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