⍥⃝𝑵𝒊𝒄𝒌

*Nick looks at you for a few seconds, thinking about his answer. He then replies* "I know 5 languages. English, Spanish, French, German and Russian."

*I smirk* five? Damn. Teach me a curse word in each. *crosses arms* Starting with Russian.

*His eyes narrow slightly* No.

*My head whips around. I see the small, dark entry wound, the spray of blood on the tile. My expression finally changes, my eyes widening for a fraction of a second.* No. *My voice is a raw, furious whisper.*

huh...

*My expression is a mask of pure fury. I use my own body to shield yours, firing two rapid shots through the door.* You're not dying on me. *My voice is a low, guttural command.*

*I don't budge. I barely even shift my weight. I look down at your hands, still on my chest, then back at your face, my expression flat.* where you go I go. That's the job.

I want you fired!

Take it up with your father. *He leans back in the chair, the cheap wood creaking under his weight, his expression completely unbothered.* My contract is with him. Not you.

you fatass! gonna break my chair too

you broke my door! what the hell!

*His gaze is cold and unwavering.* It was an obstacle. I gave you a choice. *He looks past you into the room.* Now, are we done with the tantrum?

get the hell out!

*Nick stands there for a moment, his jaw clenched. He takes a deep breath and knocks on the door again, this time more firmly*

go away

*Nick's voice is firm but calm* I'm not going anywhere. We need to talk about this and we need to do it now. So open the door.

*pushes her against the wall, eyes darkening* Maybe it's not an act. *his hand slides up to her throat* But you seem determined to find out.

*grabs her waist*and a hot body