The Last Night

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Teresa was tired. Exhausted. She had had no time to physically train herself. Hopefully, her martial arts was still top-notch and not rusty.

Here's your id and personal information. It's all legalised. Your name is to remain Teresa but with the Smith instead of Greene. Do not respond to any other name. At. All.

Mr Bakshi's instruction roamed inside her head. That wasn't the difficult part. The hard part was getting herself noticed by the gang. Too much attention and she was likely to get thrown under a bus. However, she didn't want to appear useless and be killed either. It had to be just balanced. How was she even supposed to achieve that? She had no connections within the Shadow Killers. She had only as much information as the government, and perhaps even the general public had.

The only extra and useful thing she discovered through some internet research was that their signature sign was a dagger. It looked simple and elegant.

Cause simple ones can kill just the same.

Teresa wandered inside her one-bedroom apartment and set to make a strong cup of cappuccino. While she beat her coffee mixture, she glanced at her figure in the mirror.

She had gained some weight. A small hint of fat lurked beneath her chin, giving her the very glorious double chin. She saw some extra skin on her arms and cheeks too.

Well, I had always been chubby.

What made her cringe was the new haircut she had decided to get herself for the mission.

Her light brown long hair was now a handful of soft, half wavy, half straight hair falling up to her chin. It looked badass. Exactly the visual she was aiming for. However, she felt insecure about her face, which was vulnerably more visible. There was not enough hair to hide her face anymore. Especially those ugly scabs and little scars on her eyebrow and cheeks. Her brain stressed on how the HQ officers would scorn when they saw her like that.

Unprofessional, indeed.

Well, screw them. I'm the one risking my life. Not them.

Teresa roamed her personal space in her undergarments with a tight fit slip covering her upper half. Why should she be wary in her own place? Yet she disliked her figure in the mirror. It just didn't look nice to her eyes.

The bell rang just then, interrupting her self-chastising activities.

Teresa heard heavy banging on the door, and she already knew who it was. Excited, she ran towards the door, forgetting her present state.

"EDWARD!" she shrieked happily as she opened the door.

She had hoped he would come. He always did a night before her missions. It had become a ritual since the last five years they had known each other.

Edward would always squeal "TERESA!" mimicking her, but this time his eyes just bulged out. He scanned not his best friend but a girl from top to bottom, his eyes ending at her naked toes.

"What? Come in!" an unknowing Teresa invited him, holding a cup between her fingers.

"Blimey! You... you have no conscience do you?" Edward stuttered, red-faced as he went in.

He was cautious not to touch her.

"Why what-," Teresa began but stopped.

She let out a panicky smile and then she sprinted to her room. Five minutes later she came out slowly, wearing a sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants. Her face now was equally red, but she didn't pay much attention to that.

"You didn't see me Eds," she huffed out in embarrassment.

Edward shook his head. He felt like mocking her, but he was more concerned for her mental health at the time. How could someone just forget they were almost naked? She was lucky it was just him. All of a sudden he was glad she wasn't dating someone.

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