(Picture by GlitchyWorld324 on Instagram/askthetf2monsters on Tumblr AKA this picture was done by me)
[Also like to note that after valve has proven it being official that Red Spy is Red Scouts father, I have to alter this A LOT]
The sun was too bright, it hurt my eyes even when they were closed. I guess this is what I get for staying up so late doing... what was I doing last night?
I slowly opened my eyes, wincing at the blinding lights coming from the window in front of me, the curtains were drawn back to reveal the bright burning ball of death, that we call the sun.
Maybe I'm being over dramatic, or maybe I'm relating to everyone else in the world that hates the sun, but one things for sure.
I wasn't in my bed.
I shifted in place, turning over to lay on my back, I stared at the ceiling for about five minutes, trying to figure out what happened last night that ended with me being in someone else's bed. I didn't go to any parties last night, nor did I go to a pub to get wasted and bring home a girl. Nope, instead I was wrapped up in thick, cozy blankets that kept me warm and comfortable while I laid in bed. I closed my eyes for a moment, breathing in through my nose, I opened my eyes wide when the familiar smell of expensive perfume and smoke hit my senses like a train running me over.
Sitting up in the bed immediately, I glanced to my right expecting to see my team's Spy, but instead I was greeted with an empty room. The bed I was laying on was big enough for two people and from the paintings hanged up all over the room, I soon realized that I was in fact in Jerome's room. "Ah, crap." I muttered out, throwing the cozy blankets off of me and going to stand up, but even as I pushed my body off of the ground, my legs gave out underneath me, sending me to the floor— or, well I would've been on the floor if not for the arm wrapped around my torso. "Easy there, Nichole." The thick French accent already told me who it was, "You need to be careful after what happened last night."
Was that concern I hear? Why would he be concerned?
Turning around to face Jerome, I sneered at his face, "The 'ell are you talkin' about? I'm perfectly fine!" I don't know why I was so angry at him— maybe it was this arrogant aura he always gave off, or the fact that I'm in his bedroom with little to no memory about what happened last night may have something to do with it. Jerome forced me to sit on the bed, his suit jacket was missing from his body, now only wearing a dark red vest with a loose tie hanging around his neck. "What happened last night?" I sent a glare Jerome's way as we both seemed to stare at each other for a really long time— I mean, it was long enough to make my eyes start watering, but the whole time that I was staring at him, he was just searching my face as if trying to find something unusual about me.
"Hello? Dude, I asked you a question— don't ignore me!" I tried to stand up but Jerome forced me back down onto the bed, "You don't remember?" Jerome sounded almost shocked that I couldn't remember, "What? No! All I remember is headin' out and— and I, uh... um.. huh, I can barely remember after dat." I looked down at my hands, trying my best to remember. Jerome sighed before pressing his right hand on my forehead, tilting my head back to get a good look at my eyes, "I found you knocked out in the back, your room was locked so I had the choice to either bring you to Medic or let you sleep in my room— luckily I was nice enough to let you stay, tu étais un bordel quand je t'ai trouvé."
I pulled my head away from his hand, it was odd how cold he was. "Yeah, sure. Can I go now?" I saw Jerome shack his head in disapproval at my childish behavior, "Non, you need to rest." He moved away from me quickly, walking to the other side of the room, he grabbed a wine glass and a bottle filled with wine. Watching Jerome pour the wine into the glass, it was weird at how red the wine was— I payed enough attention to know the difference between blood red and dark velvet, and right now the wine color was blood red— crimson red, and what weirded me out the most was the metallic smell that floated in the air. "Scout," Jerome looked at me, the almost pitch black room— minus the window lighting up the room— made his blue eyes almost glow in the dark, he brought the wine glass up to his face, "Get some rest, now." His piercing blue eyes sent shivers down my spine, but I did as told, lying down on my side and trying to pretend like I am sleeping, but the smell of blood was so strong that it made me sick to my stomach.
What was Jerome up to?