Destroying Love

Eight

After going to the infirmary, telling Mr. Neil about everything that happened tonight—about The Circle and the Bird, and us almost getting caught, I can finally go home.

Mr. Neil didn't want me to drive home so I had to ask another agent to give me a ride. I didn't want to bother arguing, not after doing this during all the ride to the agency with Brandon.

I got lucky with my head—let's say it like that. I didn't get a bad concussion or anything, and after a good night of sleep, I'll be completely fine.

Because I really am exhausted. Since the unexpected return of Brandon from the death, it feels like my brain doesn't have a break.

I take a long shower when I get to my apartment. I even take time to put some lotion like almost any normal girl who likes to take care of themselves would do. I don't really take care of myself because, well, I'll get in a fight the next day and there's 90% of chances I'll get some bruises, cuts, or worse.

I have no idea where this sudden need to take care of myself for one night comes from. I put on comfy pajamas, and, wait for it... I put a face mask.

I didn't even know I had that. Probably Britt who somehow gave me this and I forgot about it.

I plop down on my couch and decide to watch a movie or something. I should just go to bed after the night I had but nope.

Maybe my head actually got hit so hard I somehow became even more stupid than I already am. What if now I have feelings?

Yeah. That's funny.

Five minutes after just searching for a good movie to watch, I hear something.

Three knocks at the door.

Alert, I stand up and look at my front door. Who would be here? It's 10:00 P.M, and let's say it, I don't have any friends and don't talk to a lot of people outside the agency.

Throwing my mask away, I take out the gun I hide under the coffee table and walk towards the door.

Well, it seems like I really can't take a break from my normal life.

Carefully, I take a glance through the small hole and my eyes widen in disbelief.

I step away from the door, suddenly tensed, not knowing what to do. I finally shake my head and slowly, I open the door.

Brandon looks up from the floor, his hand in his hair, a shy expression on his face. I drop the gun on the nearest console and frown at him.

"Brandon?" I ask, shaking my head. "What are you doing here?"

"Hey," he says simply, looking behind me in curiosity. A few seconds pass and his eyes meet mine again. "I just—can I come in?"

Frowning, I step away, allowing him to enter my apartment.

My apartment. Brandon is in my apartment.

Now I'm sure of it, something is wrong with my head.

I close the door and turn to face him. He's looking around him, his eyes wandering my tiny but comfy apartment.

"How did you know where I live?" I finally ask, crossing my arms.

Brandon turns to face me. "Garry told me."

Garry. Of course.

He doesn't even seem to notice how bothered I am now. He looks nervous, with the way he keeps running a hand through his brown hair and how his eyes avoid mine.

I raise a brow.

"Brandon, what are you doing here?"

"I wanted to talk to you," he answers simply, dropping his hand from his hair.