Disclaimer: I do not own Noir.

This is a poem written in Mirelle's POV. I just wrote this today. Enjoy.

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I won't admit it.

The time we met is the time I shall not forget.

You chose to work with me that I regretted.

I won't admit it.

Your skills of assassination carry envy to my eyes.

In case if you haven't noticed, life is passing us by.

Waiting for the day your past returns, so away you can fly.

I won't admit it.

We are Noir, hired assassins in the mist of the corrupted world.

Enemies of Les Soldats, they seem to be a bother.

Our destiny hangs by a black thread, unbreakable even by another.

I won't admit it, yet I think I've grown attached to you.

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I know the poem is short.

Anyway, Feel free to review or whatever.

In case if you decide to review, I'm tolerant of flames.