Pepper and The Passports [coming soon]

|prologue|

"Once you have tasted flight, you will forever walk the earth with your eyes turned skyward, for there you have been, and there you will always long to return."

—Leonardo da Vinci

[to all fascinated with flight, and the thrilling sensation of looking at life from a wider scale.]

PEPPER AND THE PASSPORTS

______

Unbelievable fatigue draped over Pepper Hughes with each step she took. Sure, there was nothing more liberating than enduring the last leg of the assignment, but her giddiness on the flight had morphed into unshakable exhaustion nearly seconds after the plane had landed.

With a heavy sigh, the jiggling of the cooper keys within her hand lingered in the dimly lit hallway of the complex. Her eyes skimmed through the pile of untouched mail steps away from apartment 3T— the lack of organization when it came to her groggy neighbor, Mr. Jenkins, was a reoccurrence she had gotten used to. Too lazy to actual answer the door, Pepper thought to herself, with a dismissive shake of her head following shortly after.

None of that mattered, though. Not when she was minutes away from a well-deserved rest.

Shadows enveloped the young woman as she entered her home, the carry-on bag plopping carelessly on top of her couch- a piece of furniture she hadn't seen in about four days. The chaotic house keys followed shortly after with the spontaneous toss of them towards the coffee table. Pepper waltzed through the darkness with ease as she promptly opened the refrigerator door for a drink. The illuminating light of the large appliance did its job in casting away remnants of the somber surroundings in the kitchen, but it didn't serve as the warning Pepper needed once her breath hitched at the sound of boxes rustling.

"Who's there?!" Pepper jolted in fear.

It wasn't long before the blade of a nearby kitchen knife glimmered in the darkness, tightly controlled within her hand. Thankfully, the glistening blade shone with the help of the early morning city lights piercing through her windows. She gripped it with all her might as she squinted due to the lack of light, only to then hear a familiar voice ring out.

"Pepper, relax. It's me," the voice reassured curtly. The young woman rolled her eyes in annoyance before flicking on the lights of her apartment, finding the infamous Drake Adams coming out of her bedroom as a cardboard box was loosely carried by his rugged hands.

"Drake," she scolded. "What the hell?!"

"You're a bit too skittish for your own good, Pep." She absolutely loathed that nickname, not because of the name itself, but the fact that Drake Adams had the audacity to call her such a name after his mistake.

"It's my house. I can be skittish when I want to. Especially when people just decide to hang out in my apartment at this hour."

"Well, relax," he spat. "I was just getting my stuff." Evident annoyance and bitterness etched upon his face as he gestured with his hands towards the cardboard boxes sprawled around him.