OUR BELOVED ASSASSIN // t.s daughter ((1))

17

She's sitting by the window in her room on an antique sofa bed that still smells old but good. Her back is against the wall behind her, pulling her knees close to her chest. Her eyes cannot stop looking outside the window up in the clear blue sky where birds are flying free in their groups, forming free shapes. A few are a little slow behind but can still keep up those who are in front. Not once they leave any of their members behind.

There has no changes in her room. Other than the same cupboard she sees the last time she saw in front of her bed that is still there, the smell of her bedroom is the best smell she smelt since she was missing. It calms her nerves. When she woke up after the first night of being back to the Villa, she felt as if all the wounds and bruises were healed. The comfy old bed put her to sleep without second thought.

As she breathes in and out, there are all thoughts running through her mind. Everything is mashed up that she doesn't know where to start or where to end it. A second she's thinking about this, and then she thinks about that. When her hearts begins to calm, her mind thinks about this back. It's always like that that she feels as if she wants to hammer down her skull!

The last interrogation didn't go well but she didn't expect anything better either. She knew one day she would be facing Tony by any chance and she'd rather have an argument with him so that he can see how bad her life has been. She wants Tony to feel guilty, as guilty as he can towards her. She wants Tony to feel what she feels throughout her life span. She didn't lie when she explained to them why she wanted to be an assassin. It was the truth. She didn't loose anything if she tells the truth.

After a few days being in captive with One Direction in Avengers headquarter, she realises that the Villa doesn't feel like home as it used to. Not like there's anything special in Avengers' ward room. Even after seeing Aaron and hugging Lukas, her best assassin friend, she feels empty. She knows why and it's hard to make her admit it because it hurt her even more. But... either way she still has to admit what Tony said to her -- that Tony is her father and even Arnold had treated her so well but he can't compete with Tony.

Hermione looks down to a picture frame she's been holding. Her thumb caresses the picture of her mother, Harriette who looks at the camera with a happy smile. Her face was blooming like a Morning Glory. Her right arm were wrapped around Tony's waist meanwhile her other hand rested on Hermione's shoulder. That picture was taken just a day before Tony left them for the sake of his corrupting company back then.

She didn't wipe the tears that falls on her cheeks like waterfall but sniffles before she opens her mouth to speak to herself. "Hello, Mum," she says and smiles to herself. "It's been long since I have a chat with you, isn't it? There's nothing too exciting happening to me though. All the same except... lately.

"Mum, if you're still here, will you except Dad again? Because I... I met him. And talked to him but it didn't go well. If you're still here, will you be mad me for yelling at Dad's face? Of course, you will, won't you? Because I am yelling at Dad's face. I know Dad and I were inseparable. But since he left us I didn't feel like he's my Dad anymore." Suddenly she laughs. "But after seeing his face I didn't think I will miss him even more and feel so empty until I get back here."

Her eyes changes to Tony who stands beside her mother. One of his hands were shoved into his jeans meanwhile the other was squeezing Hermione's cheeks.

Her smile turns evil. "I hope you didn't break our promise, Dad," she says. "Just leave me here."

Hermione continues to hug the picture frame although she didn't want to because Tony was there in the picture but it's the only family picture she keeps since she was young and adopted.