You could see the mystery in her irises. The icy blue color sent typical eyes the projection of innocence and beauty. But underneath her skin was a mystic galaxy of fear, which she tried ever so carefully to hide. And if your pupils could squint hard enough, the image of innocence would vanish into thin air.

When she would arrive home late each night, the sound of the high heels being thrown into the closet could be heard from buildings all across the city. She would untie her hair carefully, planning to take a shower the next morning to get all the tangled brown curls sorted. Her purse would carefully be placed on her desk, and she would keep the small loaded revolver hidden in her pocket.

As she walked over to the wide glass wall that faced the city, she could observe the various people and their business like a raven soaring in the night. Sometimes the busy street cars and the sounds of crime would be more entertaining to her than anything she could find on the television. For she lived for fear, the sense of adrenaline that pumped through her veins.

Managing to get her vibrant eyes to glance away from the sparkling buildings, she left the living room to enter the kitchen. She hadn't eaten since the morning, and her energetic movements she did all day was enough to keep her hungry. She found whatever she could while searching the fridge, and ate the cold food, after, pouring herself a large glass of wine.

Walking over with it back to the living room she drank the thin blood colored liquid, which instantly relaxed her, and took down the stress she faced with work. Her missions grew increasingly harder, the investigations proved unsuccessful, and the man they were trying to capture obviously didn't want to be found.

But she did enjoy it, the secrets, the gossip, and the proudness she would obtain after thwarting someone's plans. And she always knew the government had secrets, and perhaps the same rule applied to everyone. The fact that the mysteries she'd wondered about her whole life could finally be revealed to her, well it was the dream.

If it wasn't for Gold, or so he liked to be called. He teased her agency, mocked the fact that they had not yet been able to capture him yet. But he didn't make it easy. Threats, murders, terrorist attacks, he had eyes all over the country, so she had to remain secretive.

She'd spent months reading, studying, and theorizing where exactly he was hidden, but nothing. The sudden ring of the phone made the brunette drop the pile of papers she'd been observing. She groaned in frustration, and went over to answer the phone quickly.

The immediate masculine voiced greeting signaled her brain to conclude it was Gaston. She didn't feel like talking to him right now, but then again, she never truly did. He was handsome, sure, and she couldn't deny that she didn't feel any kind of attraction towards him. But love wasn't just attraction, is was connection, and there was nothing between them.

She needed him for her cover, her fake personality that she showed to the world. And somehow his wonderstruck eyes couldn't see through her, he saw the outside, the innocent and sweet girlfriend who would listen to him.

But she hated that; she disliked how everything he talked about she would have to pay attention to. How he would never once ask her how he was, but he was a man who loved her, and that was enough of a disguise for her.

"Lacey." He said boldly through the phone, projected his deep voice so loudly it seemed the apartment shook. Her fake name of course, easily believable, but she never revealed her true self. She took a deep breath and rubbed her eyes, before giggling his name squeakily through the phone.

She was grateful he couldn't see through the phone, her bloodshot eyes and stressed mind caused by Gold. And so she "listened" to his day. He told her each and every detail, expecting her complete attention. Every time he would laugh, so would she, and every time his voice would sadden, she'd tell him she was sorry.

Soon she faked a reason for having to leave, and made a kiss sound through the phone. And as she hung up, she slammed the phone on the counter angrily. Running her fingers through her hair she took many breaths to calm herself down.

Pouring herself another full glass of red wine, she approached her elegant green chair, and turned it, so it could overlook Central Park. Of course she loved having all of New York on her doorstep, the ever changing, never-ending city. It was a shame she never had time to explore it.

And at night when the city's atmosphere changed into thick fog and gloomy skies, she would always observe it. She looked at the buildings, which she had to stretch to see, and the bright yellow taxis, which could be seen in even the pitch-black darkness.

And as the city lights shone on her face, making her look paler than ever, her eyes reflecting the glow. Drinking the last of her wine she placed it down on the coffee table, finally deciding to give her tired eyes a rest. Walking into her bedroom with her bare feet feeling cold against the hardwood floors, she exhaled and collapsed on her bed.

Submerging herself in the blankets she rested her head on the soft pillows. And before closing her eyes she thought one last time of Gold, telling herself in her head that she wouldfind him.

Her eyes fluttered shut quickly, as her brain projected thoughts that calmed her mind. And for some hours she could escape her life, watch her troubles fly away until she would awake the next morning.