Nostalgia

"This feels like old times. You and me, off on a mission to destroy some people's lives," Scark remarked, rousing me from my ruminations. I pulled my gaze away from the passing scenery. "I suppose it does," I agreed with my second, a small chuckle leaving parted lips. I braced myself on the door as the carriage jolted with a bump in the road. He tilted his head, eyeing me for a moment before he bent down to rummage through his stuff.

"I suppose this is as good enough time as any to give you this."

My brow shot up. "You got me a gift? How sweet," I exclaimed flattered.

With a flourish, he presented me with a small vial necklace. Recognition flashed across my eyes.

"You kept it?! You know you're supposed to get rid of the evidence after you murder someone," I laughed, giving him a playful shove. 

"What can I say, I'm sentimental," he admitted with a shrug. "Turn around." 

My lips pulled up into a smile, and I turned around in my seat, brushing the loose strands of my ebony locks out of the way. With a delicate touch, he reached around my neck and clasped the chain. A small shiver went through me as his skin brushed mine. I bit my lip as he caressed my neck. But as I felt him lean in, I pulled away, shifting back over to the window. I closed my eyes, feeling a pang of regret as he let out a resigned sigh. 

"Don't distract me, Scark," I murmured, my gaze taking in the scenery again. "The mission. That's all that matters." 

"Of course. My apologies," he replied, regaining his composure. "So, m'lady, are you ready to raise some hell?"

I looked over my shoulder at him, the corner of my lips twitching. "I thought you'd never ask, milord."