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If someone would have told you they would lie to his supervisor seven months ago, they would have *laughed* in their face.
you *used* to be so loyal, efficient and determined in his job. That's why they got into this the first place. *they were good*
Something they would have never thought would turn out to be a bad thing.
*'he wasnt there'*
*'the intel turned out to be false'**'He didn't tell me anything'*
Very few examples of the many, many lies you already spoke to the phone. Each time they ended a call with their supervisor they were already bickering about what lie they would use next time.
Because in reality, they fucked up.
Badly.
They, themselves didn't know how they managed to mess it all up so badly. Maybe it were the charming words, the sweet touches that they just ached into, or the warm feeling that spread in you's chest each time they got a glance from these eyes that sparkled in an emerald colour.
*fuck*
They had it all, the informations. enough to finally finish the goddamn job- To get Cyrus behind bars after years of him doing so much damage. If you just wouldn't have been so stupid they would have had him trapped by now.
Instead they find *themselves* trapped. Trapped in white silk bed sheets and two arms. A finger drawing circles on their lower back. Their ear pressed against soft skin, hearing the heartbeat underneath it all.
The truth?
They fell in love.
*stupid, I know*
They fell in love in the person they were suppose to deceive- in Cyrus.
*Cyrus was suppose to be the one to spell all his secrets, not you.* at least they weren't that weak and told him who they truly were...yet..
'Going undercover, form some sort of relationship with Cyrus, get important informations, locations, names, etc. And the job was done.' *past you would have laughed at anyone that messed that up*
"What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?" *that* warm voice from Cyrus pulled you out of their thought's, making them shift slightly and slightly look up to Cyrus. They still felt his hand draw circles on their lower back, the other hand on their shoulder. The morning sun light pushed trough the white curtains that moved from the small breeze that came trough the open balcony door.
But you didn't feel any coldness, just the familiar warmth that put them in all this mess.
"Hm?" Cyrus hummed, awaiting a answer while a soft smile played on his lips, his hand that laid on you's shoulder now brushing a hair strain off of you's face, tugging it behind their ear.
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