chapter 11

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I wake up the next morning, and am alarmed to see that the clock reads seven o'clock. We usually leave for our assignments at four of five. But I can't get up. Mitch's hand is resting on my chest, the other in my hair. One of his legs overlaps with mine, and his head still lazily sits in the crook of my neck.

I stroke his dark bangs out of his eyes as he awakens, another one of those smiles growing on those lips.

"Good morning, Scottie."

"I see you've gotten quite comfy on me, haven't you?" I chuckle.

"Well, your'e quite cuddleable. If that's even a word." We lay in blissful silence, but then Mitch's eyes widen and he gasps.

"What the hell, Scott, it's seven o'clock?" He bursts. "They've left us behind!" We scramble out of bed and throw on our black clothing, rushing out of the room to get breakfast and leave. But then I remember. It's our first day as 'coordinators'. I'm not even sure what that's supposed to mean, but I just do what I'm told around here.

Mitch must remember too, as he seems to relax when he finds a note from his father telling us how to do our new job.

"I don't even know where this room is." I mutter.

"Don't worry," Mitch answers, "We have several secret rooms in this place." He smirks and takes my elbow, pulling me out of my chair. We head past the corridor of rooms, and he lifts open a wooden plank from the floor, revealing a basement!

Yes, again, it sounds cliche.

He takes out a ladder and we climb down, and I miss a step and almost topple onto Mitch, which makes him do one of those belting laughs. I want to make him laugh more.

He flicks on a light bulb and yellow light pulses throughout the room, only missing the corners. It is a huge room, with shelves of books on opposite walls and red carpet beneath my feet. It looks much classier than the rest of the place. In the center of the room four large oak desks sit beside each other, with a huge modern computer on the surface, along with other high tech electronics beside them. I run my fingers over the rows and rows of books, and spot a large metal case which is where weapons must be kept.

"This is where I spent a lot of my time when I first started living here." Mitch says. "I'd gone to school up until sixth grade, when I was left by my mother. I wanted to stay smart. I didn't want to be dumb. So I'd study on the computers and with the books." I nod and keep staring at the books, from fiction writings to how-to guides.

Mitch powers on two of the computers, and then he heads over to that large metal case. He takes a key and unlocks it, revealing rows upon rows of glistening rifles and shot guns on one side, and monstrous, gleaming knives on the other.

"Have they never been used?" I ask. "They all look spotless." Mitch shakes his head.

"One of my jobs is to clean their weapons. See that sink?" He looks to a long white sink with rust on the sides. I hadn't noticed it before. "If they have any bloody clothing or tools, they hand them to me and I'm expected to clean them till they look new once more."

"That seems terrible." I say as I walk to the sink. It's rather clean with the exception of rust, which makes me feel sick. Mitch has touched the blood of their victims. Revolting.

"We can't use the regular washing machine for the fear of leaving traces of blood. It's sick."

I see a notepad hanging in the back of the case, full of tiny handwriting I can't read.

"Hey, Mitch, what're those papers for?" I ask, curious.

"They're- uh, I'm not sure." He stutters as he slams the case shut. I drop the topic and sit down at the computers, which are now fully started up . Mitch has put his guard back up, sitting with his back rigid and face blank.

This guy has the craziest mood swings! I didn't say anything wrong. There is no winning with him. I sigh and get to work.

Thanks for reading! I have a huge plot twist sort of thing planned, but once it starts the story will end a couple chapters later. Therefore, I'm trying to add in a couple of more kind of chapters that just focus on Mitch and Scott's friendship to make the story a bit longer and not too short. Anyways, there is a reason for Mitch's 'crazy mood swings', but you'll have to keep reading to find out! Stay f'cute!

~Cassie :)

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