tempest

For a marksman like you: the worst part isn’t missing, it’s the fact knowing someone made you miss. 

When you head into the office, you’re already in an awful mood. You're one of the best in your field with over seventy kills under your belt. You've never had any issues with the target until last week. That asshole - some assassin from another firm, no doubt - totally cut off your view and the target escaped. You tried to catch up, but it was too late. Now, the target was in a high-security lockdown and the chances of killing him are slim to none.

Jisoo had told you to take a few days to cool off so the team could investigate what went wrong with your approach. You'd grabbed some coffee for yourself from downstairs; so you got one for her, too. She smiles gratefully as she takes a sip of the proffered drink. “How you holding up?”

“Yeah, still pissed though. I almost had him,” you complain, sinking in your seat. “Morning.”

“Morning.” Jisoo sets the cup down as she goes through her papers. “So, we’ll walk through some of the stuff the team found but I have something better: your next assignment.” She then pushes a manila folder in front of you. “It’s the bitch that fucked up our last assignment. That firm has been going after too many of our targets so it’s time to take out the competition.”

Thank god, something productive to do and somewhere to channel your frustration with the whole mission. You open the folder and stare; and stare. You then look up at your friend/boss and glare at her. “That's not funny, Jisoo.”

She shoots you a confused glance. “What’s not funny?”

You put your finger on the huge printout on the front page. “That’s- that’s my wife!” It could be no other but Seulgi looking up at you, stone-cold serious in all black, looking like you’ve never seen her before.

Jisoo purses her lip. “Cute,” she says, rolling her eyes. “That's not your wife, that’s the competition. We need to take her out. She's not good for business.”

Agitated, you stand. Pacing the room. “Jis, this isn’t a joke.”

She stares for a few moments until she can tell you’re serious. Her eyes widen almost comically. “Wait, really? That’s your wife?” Eyes darting to the picture.

“Yes! That's Seulgi!” You’d know her face anywhere. Seulgi isn't an assassin- she works for some tech company where she does a load of things you barely understand. There's no way she’s hidden this from you.

“No way,” Jisoo takes a closer look. “She's really hot.” Her eyes narrow on you. “Are you sure that’s your wife?”

“Yes!” you hiss, your hand coming down to strike the table. “You’ve never seen my wife. Why wouldn’t she be hot?” you ask, momentarily sidetracked.

“Well, if she was this hot I'd have questions. You know no one is this hot without some skeletons in their closet. Which apparently, might also be a hired gun.” Jisoo eyes you warily. “Besides, you kind of just complain about her - I kind of imagined her I don't know- laid back?”

Guilt tugs at your gut. You do love Seulgi, even if things have been difficult for a long time. You married her because you loved Seuigi and she was also great in bed and a good cover. Still, seven years of marriage have worn on the two of you, and the spark you both used to have seemed lost. Yet, that didn’t mean she had a whole secret life.

You shake the thoughts out of your head. “Whatever. The point is, what am I supposed to do? I've been sleeping next to an assassin for the better part of a decade?”

“I mean, isn’t she sleeping next to an assassin every night?”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same- Jisoo,” you lower your voice. “I won't kill her. I can't. She's- she’s  everything to me, even if we're in a rut.” Seulgi floated the idea of marriage counseling just last week. 

It seemed like the two of you might have bigger problems than that now.

“The hit has been issued though,” Jisoo points out the obvious. You have never refused a hit; it’s not something that goes well in this industry.

“Just give me some time? Please?” Jisoo’s your co-worker but she’s also your closest friend. One doesn’t get far in this industry without someone to count on and for you, that’s Jisoo.

She sighs and bites her lip. “Just hang low and let’s see if I can work something up with the team. Maybe there’s an error,” she allows. “I suggest you relax and try to figure out if your babe of a wife kills people for money.”

You squint. “Hey, you might be a hired gun but that doesn’t mean you can talk about her like that.”

Jisoo gives you a saccharine smile. “Oh, that was purely because she’s hot. In that case, I’ll see you around.”

“Thanks,” you say, rolling your eyes; looks like it’s going to be another paperwork day while you stew over this.

-

When you go home later that night, you feel like you’re walking on eggshells. 

The usual routine of taking off your shoes at the door and putting on the slippers that Seulgi always lays out for you. One deep breath with a few steps, you’re unsure how you’re going to act normal. 

In the kitchen: there’s Seulgi . Like always, she’s cooking, putting the finishing touches on something that smells amazing. You lean against the entryway, staring at her.

She's always been beautiful, that was never a question in your mind from the first time you saw her when you were on a mission in Bogotá. Today, she’s wearing a baby blue dress that hugs her figure, and a white apron that is pristinely clean. Seulgi clean and loves order, is a tremendous cook, and has a dry - if subdued - sense of humor. 

You know her pretty well, you think. 

Could she really be hiding something so big from you?

Seulgi finally catches you staring and sends you a soft smile. “Hey, you. dinner is almost ready.” she walks up to you and presses a perfunctory kiss to your lips like she does every day that you come home.

“Hey. it smells great,” you pull Seulgi close, and she lets out a surprised yelp, not expecting the affection.

Down beneath Seulgi's brown eyes. Except in the picture you received at work, she was wearing contacts to make both her eyes blue. And it’s the same face. It has to be her. You pull Seulgi in for a hug, feeling her pressed in your arms. Seulgi hesitantly returns it, one hand rubbing up and down your back.

“Are you alright, baby?” She sounds genuinely concerned and you wonder if that’s real or if it’s a lie too. Seulgi’s studying your face a little too intently.

You’ve been lying just as long and as well. “I’m fine. It’s just some stress at work. You know how it is,” you shrug, one of your hands squeezing her waist.

Seulgi laughs you off. “Yeah, I know how that can be. Although I think your job is a little more difficult than mine.” If you weren’t looking for it, you might miss the sardonic twitch of Seulgi lips. she spins around and starts tending to the food again, this time serving plates.

“Do you need help with anything?” you offer.

She shakes her head, already moving things to the table. “No, I'm good. Just sit down so we can eat.”

-

The table is artfully done, all of the cutlery just so. The handle of the knife is cold to your touch as you pick it up, holding it a little tighter than usual. You cut into your steak like butter. Have your knives always been this sharp? You’ve never noticed before.

“We need to replace that curtain.” Seulgi reminds you as she works on her own food, her eyes glancing up at the big bay windows in the living room. She's sitting at the far end of the dining table, miles of distance between you both.

As if you couldn’t give three shits about the curtains. 

“Sure,” you agree readily.

Seulgi narrows her eyes, which in your experience, can only mean trouble. “Thought I asked you to look at the options I picked three days ago.”

The only sound is cutlery touching the plates as you study her face. “I looked at them.” you lie. “I liked the second one.” That seems inoffensive enough.

“What color was it?” she challenges, eyes bright.

You stop moving your fork in your mashed potatoes. “What?”