Low-key | ✓

10 | New Recruit

"Well? Are you just gonna sit there all day?"

He gave me a questioning look, "Wha--"

"Pack your shit, you're living with me."

I'm saving my boys.

Also, I'm living with jerkass over here.

-

"What the hell?!"

"Get the fuck up, its 3 am already!"

I turned on the lights of Corbyn's room in my apartment.

Haha- kidding.

His room? No.

My room.

Yes we shared a room.

No we didnt share a bed.

Dirty minded motherfuckers.

"What?! 3 fucking AM in the mor--"

"Get up or I'll make you." I glared at the boy sleeping on my bed.

We shared a room. Princess over here kept the bed. He kept insisting that I slept beside him, but no.

I'm immune to his ch--

"Really? Then make me."

I raised an eyebrow.

"You asked for it."

I jumped on the bed and side kicked his stomach, making him flip over the side and fall on the floor.

I heard him groan loudly.

Pussy.

I then jumped back down and took him by his right foot and threw him over my shoulders, letting him go when his two feet touched the ground.

"Let's go." I looked at him smugly.

"Ugh. I hate you." I heard him mumble before stepping in the shower to get ready.

I ignored his comment and walked out the room, his phone in hand.

Time to do some research.

I have been living with him for a week. Not for leisure, not for fun. But to train.

He can't be defenseless around me. For all he knows I might kill him the next time he uses another pick up line on me. Like last Monday, I was with him, on a jog at 4 am. He woke up late.

"I'm afraid of the dark. Can you sleep with me tonight?"

That got him a glare and a kick.

He probably still has a bruise on his shin.

I opened his phone with my earring and was actually surprised with what I saw.

His wallpaper was--

Me?

A queasy feeling entered my stomach. Goodness, I'm pretty sure I had enough doses of serum today.

I shrugged the feeling off and opened his message app and begun scrolling through.

So far, there are no threats. No dirt yet.

Messages from Jack, Zach, his mom, and-- Cyrus?

I mean, Mr. Milan.

My eyebrows furrowed, the message dates to last week's Sunday night, when he came to me.

"I'm afraid we have to let go of your case, Mr. Besson. Good Day." I read it out loud.

My eyebrows lifted, that is so not him.

Thats so unlike him.

Ha, but its not like I totally knew him, right?

I sighed, hearing Corbyn's shower suddenly stop, I dropped his phone and came back to what I had been doing prior.

Finding out the shit about the breach in my server a week ago.

I had found out that the password was minimalist. The pop up closed and it revealed a zip file full of documents that I have yet to read.

I scrolled through my computer and clicked on the zip file.

The documents are all numbered differently. And by differently, I mean, they have a weird pattern going on.

The first document has 7313002 as its file name. Followed by 4213002. Then, 3153002, and so on, and so forth.

Even if they are all different. They have some sort of similarity. They all end in 3002.

Quite peculiar.

Suddenly, I heard the bathroom door open and close.

I turned around and saw a topless Corbyn, he was only wearing a pair of grey sweatpants.

"Well are we training or not?"

-