It sparkles on her finger, slender, secure. The familiar feel of the thin band rubbing against her finger is reassuring. It's her only comfort on those lonely nights when she sits, staring out the window and waiting.
Waiting. It seems like waiting is all her life has come to nowadays. Her career is still exciting as ever – it's hard not to be excited when you're a spy being sent on clandestine missions. But they seem to fly by in a blur, because she's always anxious to get home. Hoping that one day, when she opens the door, he'll have beaten her there and will be waiting with that smirk of his.
Until then, miles of land separate them. An ocean also bridges the gap, and she crosses her fingers, hoping that he'll come back. Praying that nothing will go wrong. Because when you're a spy, you find out that oftentimes, everything that could possibly go wrong does. And she can't stand another loss in her life, not after her father missing. If she loses him, too, she swears she'll lose her mind.
He's capable, though, one of the most capable spies she's ever met. She has faith in him – how could she not, after agreeing and accepting the ring from him?
"Whatever happens, this is a promise." The promise that, no matter what, at the end of the day he'll come back and take her in his arms. She isn't one for sob stories or over-romantic drama, but she's come to realize that it feels nice to have someone to lean against. To fall back on. And if he disappears, she'll fall backward with no one to catch her, an endless freefall into oblivion.
Her cell phone beeps. She stirs slowly, aware that another assignment awaits her and she has no more time for these dark thoughts. After all, how realistic are they? Nothing will happen to him, or to them. The ring on her finger is proof enough. It's a promise, twinkling brightly in dark.
In a world fraught with lies, she knows that a promise is the one thing he won't break.
A/N: As you can probably tell, I was in a bit of a brooding mood when I wrote this...