A/N: Short part but it seemed fittingly pause, let me know what you think...
Part 3
Soon after she really started to get interesting. Things almost seemed to go back to the way they were before. But that excitement never came back. There was only sadness and a grim determination. It was most obvious when she was with the tall African gentleman. A partner I assumed in whatever it was she did.
They were rarely ever actually together but if I ever saw him it was because she was around. The man, well that one was definitely a wrist talker. He had an easy smile and his eyes were full of the confidence of someone who knew he saved the world on a regular basis. The times the two did speak to one another were when her masks really earned their keep. Her false face would have shined in Hollywood then.
At first this alarmed me. Could it be that I was time and time again letting someone with black intentions toward this country walk right by me?
It was another gentleman that assured me I wasn't putting my country in danger every time I let her go. He came sauntering past me one day with her hanging on his arm. They were all smiles and affectionate butterfly kisses, a happy father and daughter. Beneath that I could see the actually family resemblance. She had her father's eyes.
And her father's trust.
Now when I say her father's eyes I'm not referring to the intense chocolate brown irises but to the smoldering fire I spoke of before. I realized then that he had shown me the same terrifying and change and I'd doubted him too. Before I figured him out.
I'd pegged him as a wrist talker early on. He practically oozed with that mixture of pride and arrogance that said if anyone deserved to stand below an American flag it was him. A real honest to goodness, 100% pureblood American hero.
Most heroes do get their American flag. Draped over their coffin decades before was their due.
But in his case the flag turned out to be not a shroud but a noose. He disappeared for months as she had. When he returned, only embers remained of the fire he'd once possessed and those were struggling to breathe.
The source of his torment was one of the easiest puzzles to solve. When I finally saw him again his persona was of a wealthy businessman. Still there was a faint tan line on his wrist reminiscent of a watch a man like the entrepreneur before me would not own. There was no mark left on his finger from a wedding band though.
Part 3
Soon after she really started to get interesting. Things almost seemed to go back to the way they were before. But that excitement never came back. There was only sadness and a grim determination. It was most obvious when she was with the tall African gentleman. A partner I assumed in whatever it was she did.
They were rarely ever actually together but if I ever saw him it was because she was around. The man, well that one was definitely a wrist talker. He had an easy smile and his eyes were full of the confidence of someone who knew he saved the world on a regular basis. The times the two did speak to one another were when her masks really earned their keep. Her false face would have shined in Hollywood then.
At first this alarmed me. Could it be that I was time and time again letting someone with black intentions toward this country walk right by me?
It was another gentleman that assured me I wasn't putting my country in danger every time I let her go. He came sauntering past me one day with her hanging on his arm. They were all smiles and affectionate butterfly kisses, a happy father and daughter. Beneath that I could see the actually family resemblance. She had her father's eyes.
And her father's trust.
Now when I say her father's eyes I'm not referring to the intense chocolate brown irises but to the smoldering fire I spoke of before. I realized then that he had shown me the same terrifying and change and I'd doubted him too. Before I figured him out.
I'd pegged him as a wrist talker early on. He practically oozed with that mixture of pride and arrogance that said if anyone deserved to stand below an American flag it was him. A real honest to goodness, 100% pureblood American hero.
Most heroes do get their American flag. Draped over their coffin decades before was their due.
But in his case the flag turned out to be not a shroud but a noose. He disappeared for months as she had. When he returned, only embers remained of the fire he'd once possessed and those were struggling to breathe.
The source of his torment was one of the easiest puzzles to solve. When I finally saw him again his persona was of a wealthy businessman. Still there was a faint tan line on his wrist reminiscent of a watch a man like the entrepreneur before me would not own. There was no mark left on his finger from a wedding band though.