"You screwed up the fucking mission," he seethed with gritted teeth, holding her by the shoulders.
"So? Everyone screws up. At least I know your parents did," she retorted, eyeing him up and down before she jolted free from his grasp.
Unbothered to change into anything more comfortable, Mark lay on his couch with his tie loosely tied around his neck, a few buttons undone on his white button up, vaguely revealing his shoulder tattoo.
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(😫😫😫)
A groan left Mark's lips when he heard the door bell ring, lousily extracting himself from his comfortable position to get up and answer. "Coming," he said groggily, fixing himself up a bit.
"Mr. Lee sent this for you." one of the assistants was at the door, handing Mark yet another envelope, making his eyebrows furrow in confusion.
"There's like, hundred Lee's here, which one are you talking about?" his remark came out ruder than intended and the assistant's lips pressed into a thin line. "Apologies. Mr. Lee Taeyong, sir," he bowed and without another word, retracted from the doorstep.
Mark sighed, pressing the bridge of his nose with his index finger before beginning to read, and automatically, he rolled his eyes at the formality.
"Greetings, Dream.
This is to inform you that the temporary replacement for Lee Jeno will be arriving tomorrow afternoon. They have been trained in many aspects, as well as hired on multiple occasions to assassinate enemies confidentially by our heads. Tomorrow a formal meeting will be arranged for Dream to get acquainted shortly.
Lee Taeyong"
Mark was taken aback, yet intrigued at the slightest. It was sketchy how this person had been hired multiple times yet had never been in contact with anyone except for the heads, which he wasn't even sure who was, as he only knew of Taeyong.
There surely were a lot of unveiled secrets.
Aware that the rest of his teammates must already have gotten the same message, he couldn't get himself to make an extra effort, and found himself in bed. To say he was exhausted was an understatement.
•••
On the other end was Lee Hyerin, punching the bag with full force even after two hours of restless training. Beads of sweat formed on her bare lower stomach, the defined lines speaking volumes themselves.
Interrupted by a call, she felt her adrenaline die down, throwing her head back with a large breath before removing the boxing gloves and answering the call.
"Hello?" Her voice was hoarse from the training, and she gulped in attempt to flush away the dryness. With a few sentences that felt extremely laborious, the girl hung up, completely drained of energy. She never realised her exhaustion until she took a break from consecutive hours of training, which is why she avoided any.
Done for the day, the girl took a towel and headed out of the gym to her discomfortingly small apartment, and found herself asleep in bed.
She didn't believe in comfort to say the least, with life always standing steady a hindrance in front of her, she only riled towards believing that being too comfortable never brought anything good, and thus, didn't find herself attached to any people, or materialistic things.
