All three of us stood up and made our way to the dining room, where we met up with the most of their family, minus a couple. Raven and North sit in in seats next to me on each of my sides.. while everyone is seated along the long mahogany table that stretches the whole length of the room with only a few spare seats in between some of the guys.
I smile lightly at the sights and sounds around the room. Laughter comes from a few and on top of that, the smell of the delicious meal lingers through the air, creating the whole aura of calm, peace and home.
I have to look down at my plate for a moment, so I can fight back the tears that threaten to spill over. I can't help the stabbing pain of envy and longing that shreds through my chest. These men all became family to each other. Been a family for years.
They have a beautiful home, a schedual for themselves. They live each day knowing they have each other to come back to, or talk with. They can be comfortable around each other, not fearing judgment or afraid to be seen as weak.
What do I have? Myself? I talk big game about how I'm better off without my own family. That people only want what they want and will hurt and use you for every drop your worth. But really it's just the mask I give to the world.
Deep inside I feel the whimpering and agony of what I don't have. What I long most for.
Love, friendship, home. So many words that I've yet to truly be able to grasp. My only friend was Theo. And it only lasted days, so does that really count? We didn't even exchange much personal information back then either. And by the time I learned how to run identification checks, it seemed like it would have been to late to try to recreate a friendship with him. Because he would probably have already moved on and forgotten about me by now.
I've never been able to love anyone, nor has anyone been close enough to love me. And home is never home when there's nothing there.
Empty walls and bare halls. Constantly moving place to place means I don't know what it feels like to have one special place to stay. And even if I did, nobody would be there to share it with.
Home is where the heart is, but my hearts been beaten and broken for so long, I think I'll always be homeless. And maybe that's for the best. I've done horrible things in order to survive. I'm not perfect or pure. And anyone that tries to get close gets hurt in the long run, because I come with too much baggage. I was born broken, and I'll most likely die sooner rather than later the same way.
And glancing back up at the table surrounded by love and friendships, I can feel how bad I'm lacking in my own life. Hell, this is the first time I've been invited over to someone's else's house that wasn't for some mission. Really, my life is pathetic.
Most of my days are filled with jobs, and when I'm not working to lure unsuspecting, stupid and conniving men to confess their sins, then I'm at whatever house or hotel catching up on sleep or self care.
While the men around me are so quick to laugh and poke fun at each other playfully, I can't even come up with words to say while simultaneously going through every scenario of what could happen.
It's all exahsting. Not them, but me. Is it possible to be completly over yourself? Maybe get a refund and exchange myself with someone better? Someone with less blood on their hands and more social adeptness?
I internally roll my eyes at myself as Owen and Axel enter and take their seats at the two ends of the table. Owen is still in a suit, and elegantly leans forward and clears his throat for everyone's attention.
"Thank you for joining us on such short notice Miss. Sang. If you don't mind, gentlemen, introduce yourself if you haven't already met."
I grin at Owen's formal tone as he addresses the table full of his team and me. I just know it erks him a little bit that he can't call me by last name. And I know he would have had someone search for it too.
Unluckily for him, I don't have one. My last name died that day in the fire. The moment I took my first step into the flames, the surname of those abusive people no longer applied to me. I'm just me. Sang.
But even if I did have a name, it wouldn't matter. I'm nonexistent to the government. I have no records of me. No paper trail or official documents. I'm nobody. Even as the Academy says I'm family to the organization, my worth is only in what I give to them.
Not that I hate them for that. They saved me. They gave me a new and better life. Gave me the opportunity to leave my past and pain behind. Every mission and every choice I've made since then, has been mine, each mistake I've made, was from my own misjudgments. The pain I feel now is from my own doing.
But maybe, against all my flaws and worthlessness, just maybe I could make this large family my friends. Have them accept me. For me to finally let someone into my heart and soul complelty. And by trying to make friends, I need to give some and learn about them all. Starting with the other men's names that I have yet to meet.
Taking a quick glance around, I note that there is only three people that I haven't met yet.
A man with a red leather jacket, white t shirt and jeans introduces himself first, I take in his strong lined jaw, sharp point nose, shaggy brown hair that hangs halfway to his dark calculative blue eyes. His lips are thick lines of soft pink that reveals straight white teeth as he gives me a soft smile, "Hey, we havnt met yet. I'm Kevin."
His voice is a deep rumble that is almost so mesmerizing that I have to force my head to nod to him and face away to the next man I have yet to meet yet.
Can I just put it on the record, that if I die right now, I'm going to hell? These men are way too good looking, that it should be a sin. This man gives a cocky grin that only adds to his Greek God appeal.
His dark hair cut short, dark eyes set into a strong face that clearly gives away his Greek features. His wide lips look perfect and plump. Almost begging to be pressed against my own.
"Silas Korba. Μοιάζεις με τέτοιο άγγελο." (You look like such an angel.)
At his soft but deep voice, I feel my cheeks burn. Add to the fact that he probably didn't realize I knew what he said only adds flames to my already heated cheeks. I resist bringing my hands up to cover my face, and instead turn away from his now smirking face to look over at the last man who sits in front of me, across the table.
Only to see an uncanny resemblance between him and Silas. But not only that, but the way his dark hair hangs in his dark eyes looks so familiar that my chest lurches.
He looks so familiar but I just can't seem to figure out how or why. Maybe I've seen him on a mission? Or even just a everyday face on a trip into a store or something. But it doesn't feel like any of those guesses are right.
It feels off. Like I knew him, but don't know him now. My brain scrambles, trying to pick apart every detail of the faces I've seen and who he could be matched to. But nothing is clicking yet. He tilts his head to the side a bit, his brows furrowing as he looks at me in confusion the same way I probably look at him.
He wears a black biker jacket and has a slate grey shirt underneath it. There's a golden ring on his finger and a glint from his ear shows he has a peircing there too.
But even seeing the peek of a tattoo coming up from his chest doesn't strike me on who he is. My heart beats faster in anticipation. And even as Owen clears his throat to remind this man to introduce himself, he stays completly still, keeping me locked into his impenetrable gaze.
His eyes narrow after a few more seconds, both of us ignoring the awkward tension in the room in favor of trying to mentally figure out who the other is.
And I know that's what he's trying to do. That has to mean we've met. But if he hasn't placed who I am, and I haven't figured out who he is, then clearly we've met, but somehow can't remember why.
I'd love to be able to claim I've has some sort of intimacy with this gorgeous man, but since I've never given my body to anyone on my own choice, then it would be a lie. And I'm sure if I've ever spoken directly to a man that looks this beautiful then he would have been ingrained into memory.
Is this one of those cases of meeting someone from a past life? I've always thought that was something made up. Fabricated to give people hope for a new and fresh start after they die, to make death seem less terrifying.
But there's not many realistic reasons on how I could have this strong sense of deja vu with a stranger man who dresses like a bad boy from the nineteen fifties biker guys.
And after about five minutes of us staring each other down in suspicious confusion, he finally relents with a sly smile and introduces himself to me in a almost bored voice.
And I have high hopes of figuring out this puzzle of feelings he brings me.
"Theodore Korba. But just call me Theo or you'll be on my bad side."
My head jerks back at his open careless threat.
"Excuse me?"
Once again he responds in the monotone voice, "You heard me Μπάρμπι. Call me by my full name, and we will have problems."
(Barbie)
"You can't just threaten someone when they call you your name. If you don't want someone using it, don't give it as a option to begin with." My voice comes out like steel and I feel my face contort in confusion once again. But this time from his attitude.
"I told my full name to let you know not to call me by it. Most people that are just told to call me Theo, like to slip and say my full name in guesses. I'd suggest you take this warning."
He leans back into his seat, pulling out a weird butterfly knife and starts twirling it around his fingers. I only call his blade strange, because unlike traditional ones, this one somehow lights up in small flickers of flames up and down the sides of the blade itself.
I'll admit it's pretty badass to see him effortlessly flick it between his fingers and spin it across his hands, but I wouldn't let him know that. Instead I feel irritation rise in myself, even as several other males try to reprimand him, I can't help but speak over them to speak to Theo.
I will never allow someone to walk all over me. I am a super understanding and accepting woman. But that doesn't mean I will just sit here and let him threaten me, then let his brothers defend my honor. If he wants to threaten me, then he'll get a taste of his own damn medicine.
"Huh. Well Theodore. I have nothing worth losing, so try your best. I'm not afraid of you. Or your threats. Next time you could simply just ask or hell! You could just politely tell me not to call you that. The warning was conplelty unnecessary."
I see the anger spark in his eyes as soon as I say his name. And by the end of my lecture, he's standing up and leaning against the table to get closer into my face.
"I fucking told you not to call me that. If you want to play, we'll play. But I guran-fucking-tee, that you'll lose. So be a good little girl, and fucking keep my name out of your pretty fucking mouth. Understood?"
I roll my eyes at him, unsurprised and unintimidated by his anger.
"No. Not understood. As I've said, do your worse. I have nothing to lose."
Apparently he doesn't like how unaffected I appear at him, because he gives a animalistic growl and his eyes darken in anger before he spits out his next words.
"Every one has something to lose, some just don't realize it."
"Oh really? See, the problem here is that you assume to know me. You put me into the category with everyone else, but truth be told, I'm not. You want to take my money? My house? My family? Do you want to humiliate me? Make me regret being born? Maybe torture me until I die?" I pause for a dramatic affect, letting him contemplate my next words a few moments before I continue," Well go right ahead Theodore. I don't have a home, a family. You could take my money, but I'm not materialistic and can easily make more. You want to embarrass me? Then go ahead and try, because I've long ago lost the ability to feel vulnerable in situations, so I could care less how other people see me. And you could just kill me, but I don't think you can. You're apart of the Academy, and you have a family depending on you. But even if you could. It wouldn't matter. Because I have nothing to live for anyways... and it's not like anyone would really miss me, either."
I give him my robotic smile. The one that shows exactly how much I could care less. My dead expression, that proves how hollow and run down I truly am. How broken and irreparable I have become.
"So please. Go ahead and do your worse Theodore. Because you have more to lose than I do."
He looks me dead into the eyes a few moments. And I let him see it all. All the loss I've experienced and all the pain that's been forced onto me to the point I feel nothing.
He thinks he can take something from me, but I have nothing worth being taken. If he thinks he could mentally or physically hurt me, then he'll soon realize that there is absolutely nothing that I haven't spent my whole life already enduring.
I sit in this room full of strangers in silence. Letting this man see how truly empty I feel in my soul. How unfufilling my life has been.
And I know instinctly that he's had his own hardships. His own painful memories. I see in his gaze that he's felt loss and pain.
But the true difference between us, is that he has something to keep him going. To make him stand from bed everyday and keep fighting for. He has a family that wants, loves and needs him. He has a home to come to every day. A place to call his own. His life may not have always been rainbows and butterflies, but he came out on top and has people surrounding him to share his burdens with.
I have nothing. I wake up alone, go through each day just doing the motions thats expected of me. I go to sleep alone. There's nothing in this world to keep me sane. Nobody to talk to when I'm upset.
And yeah, the Academy is family, but it's not the same, when I'm not really that close to anyone. I'm not allowed to be.
I'm the famous one and only ghost bird. Nobody knows anything about me other than what I do on missions. Even the council couldn't tell you much about me.
I was brought into this organization as a asset they could train to be an ultimate weapon that enimes wouldn't see or know coming.
And for that, I lost the life of being normal.
Maybe it was a bad idea to come here. I should have known it wouldn't work. The ghost don't get to have friends. Family. I don't get any of the normal things a woman my age has. So why did I give myself the hope that I could change that?