Dylan O'Brien Imagines

Too Much Part 3-Mitch Rapp

For the next week, Rapp actually took my advice. When I told him to loosen up, he did. When I corrected his stance, he fixed it. The only thing he hasn't done is opened up about his past. He still keeps everything bottled up.

I watched as Rapp sparred against another guy, easily getting the upper hand. I crossed my arms over my chest and shifted my weight from one foot to the other.

"Alright!" I yelled, making them both stop. "That's enough. Mark, hit the showers." I hesitated before adding, "You too, Rapp."

I turned on my heel and started walking out of the gym.

"Y/N, wait."

I turned around to see Rapp jogging towards me. "You okay?" He asked as he started walking with me.

"Yeah," I shrugged. Rapp reached forward and grabbed my arm, stopping me. I turned towards him to see him looking at me knowingly.

"You sure?" He asked, still holding my arm.

"I'm fine, Rapp." I said, biting my tongue to stop myself from getting angry as I slipped my arm out of his hold. I started to walk away, but he quickly caught up to me.

"Then why are you frustrated? I had the upper hand the entire fight with Mark."

"Exactly," I said, stopping and turning towards him. "You had the upper hand the whole time. But that's the problem, Rapp. A good fighter lets his opponent get the upper hand to distract him before placing the final blow. That way you finish the fight, not just drag it on."

Before he could say another word, I turned on my heel and started walking away again.

"Y/N, hold on." I let out an annoyed sigh as he caught up to me again, grabbing my wrist. "What's going on? Why do you seem pissed?"

I instantly pulled my hand out of his grasp. "Because you are still holding back," I said through my teeth.

"I'm controlling my anger," he scoffed. I smirked as I noticed him trying to control his anger right now.

"True, but that's not what I meant." I tried to walk away again, but he instantly stepped in front of me.

"What the hell is wrong with you? You're supposed to be training me."

"What did I tell you about keeping shit bottled up?" I asked, cutting him off.

"You said that it's my business and I can take all the time I want to get through it as long as I don't let it control me."

"Yet you do," I said, with a small sigh. "You let what happened control you. You still haven't dealt with it or moved on. Whatever you need to do, you haven't done it."

He opened and closed his mouth, stuttering. I sighed when I saw the pain in his eyes. "Rapp, I understand that what happened stays with you. I know it probably keeps you up at night. You probably can't stop thinking about it. That's fine. We all have shit bottled up. The difference is we've worked through it. You haven't."

"What shit did you work through?" He asked, scoffing lightly. I looked at him, the memories flooding my brain.

"I'll talk about what happened to me when you are ready to talk about what happened to you." I turned on my heel and headed towards my room.

* * * * *

I was typing up another file on a new target when I heard a knock on the door. I sighed as I stood up and walked across my room to open the door.

"Rapp," I said, surprised to see him on the other side of my door. "What. . . What are you doing here?"

I felt like my heart drop when I noticed that Rapp's whole demeanor had changed. Standing in my doorway, he wasn't the cocky assassin he was when he walked around Orion. Instead, he looked small. You could tell he had a lot on his mind and a big weight on his shoulders. Maybe he was finally ready to take that weight off. . .