Annela keeps her eyes transfixed on her window as she cautiously enter her building. She tip toes up the stairs, closing her mind not to be detected by whoever is in her cover home. Facing her entrance door, she slides in her key silently, and unlocks the door abruptly, hoping to surprise the intruder. As soon as her eyes get accustomed to the light, she makes out a male body on her couch. She observes the dark curly hair and stiff neck and shoulders above the couch. The head is leaning downwards, no movement answers her sudden entrance. 

          Who are you? she firmly sends, staying put. 

          I'm Paul, I was supposed to bring two packs of beer to someone called Nancy who lives here, a serene male voice answers. 

          Annela exhales a sigh of relief, walking around the sofa to face him. His dark green eyes, or extremely light brown eyes lift up from the book he is reading. She can't figure out the color. A black turtleneck covers his slender upper body. Annela knows not to mistake a lack of muscular material for weakness. He keeps his eyes on her tired but tough face as she pushes an armchair around to face him. She watches his hands felinely close the book without a sound and deposit it right next to him. His impassible face reminds her of the training of the spies in her organization. He knots his fingers and lays his hands on his open lap, expecting her to give her insight on the mission. 

          I found the target, she starts off grandly and directly.

          His hard expression almost imperceptibly softens, impressed.  

          Christian Lavelle, tall, light brown hair, dark blue eyes, a mole on his left cheek, overall a neatly put together young man, she efficiently describes. 

          Why the need for back up then? his clear throaty voice inquires. 

          I was kidnapped by members of the Paradox, she less proudly informs, sending him an image of the three men and the silhouette of the woman she caught before she was sent unconscious. The admiring twinkle in his eye doesn't fade away. 

          But you escaped. They've always been weaker even if they're more than us. 

          I was lucky, she throws, her pride taking another blow. We must never underestimate them. They're close to the target as well, eyeing my every move. 

          He nods, following her as she stands up with his eyes. 

          I'm going to sleep. Tomorrow we need to buy me a new cellphone, and go check on Christian. 

          She doesn't turn around, walking straight to the bathroom to wash up, and changing into her pajamas. Dragging her feet towards her bead, she halts, seeing the young man's lower body under her covers, a white T-shirt on. He looks at her, her loose hair cascading down on her shoulders, her shapely legs bare under her neat beige shorts. 

          She steps over him and turns her back on him to face the wall, pulling the covers onto her own body, feeling his body heat nearby, and a mild aromatic and woody scent tickling her nose. 

          We'll need to buy a new mattress tomorrow too, she drowsily notes. Don't get too comfortable. 

          Annela doesn't see his full lips uncover his white teeth in the dark into a smile. 

          "What's you're real name by the way, I forgot to ask," she quietly asks, breaking the silence. She feels him shift around behind her. 

          "Evandro Ambrósio," his naturally hoarse voice pronounces, a perfect Spanish accent intonation. 

          "Enchanted," she mumbles, before surrendering to the arms of Morpheus. 

          ***

          Annela's eyes open up to the sunny room, an empty space beside her. She spreads her rested limbs and checks the time on the clock hanging on her neat white walls. 

          Ten seventeen a.m... she reads. She feels the imprint Evandro left on his side of the bed, and sighs, relaxed. The Saturday morning announced its calm atmosphere. The mushy cushions and mattress seem to glue her flat on the surface. Her head turns to look outside her open door, and the opened bathroom door right across the hallway. He takes off his white pajama top, leaving his upper body bare and a low waisted jean hanging on his lower body, and revealing two Chinese symbols on the beautiful dark skin complexion of his back : 游牧 [Yóumù]. 

          He slides into a black buttoned shirt, buttoning up to leaving three of them undone, before turning around to see her eyes on him. 

          "What does Yóumù mean in mandarin?" she asks, knowing the individual's characters' pronunciation but not their meaning together. 

          Nomad, he sends. And it's not polite to watch other people while they change clothes. 

          If you hadn't want to see, you'd have closed the door. 

          A malicious smirk tugs on his lips. 

          I'm teasing. We aren't sixteen anymore, he states, rolling his eyes and walking away. 

          She finally musters the courage to leave the bed and drags her sleepy legs to the kitchen. The young woman fills a mug with milk and contemplates Evandro communicating with probably another agent on his phone as the beverage heats up in the microwave. None of them ever break the silence once, as they prepare themselves to go out and execute their schedule. Annela enjoys his discreet company, not having to talk with him unless completely necessary. Once read, they use his car to drive to the nearest electronic shop and buy her a phone. His driving is extremely smooth and professional, she notices, thinking he probably doesn't know road rage exists. 

          Alright, now we have to go get the mattress, she indicates. His light colored eyes, with still the mysteriously unnamable color, fall onto her. 

          I think we should go check on the target first, he suggests, not in a hurry to get his own bed.

          He has an impressive power, he isn't in danger, she confidently explains. He was even able to give me an order, she reinforces. 

          He spreads his shoulder open to rest his arm on the back of her seat, and slides his finger in her hair to tuck it behind an ear. The movement was so agilely executed that she didn't have time to anticipate. 

          Unbutton my shirt, he spontaneously orders, out of the blue, taking her by surprise. 

          Her eyes lower to his chest and she feels the need to bring her hands to the top button still holding the two ends of the thin black cloth together. Halfway through invading the space between the both, she takes back control of herself. He laughs. 

          See, it isn't that hard to make you do something, he playfully proves. Her cold glare transpierces his skull. 

          A bit more of professionalism please, she disapprovingly reproaches. He chuckles, starting to drive towards the address Annela gave him the night before. 

          And you cheated, she sulks. He doesn't reply, his victorious smile vexing Annela. They arrive in front of a small house, the brown Mercedes resting under the scorching sun. Evandro cuts the air conditioner in the car and they step out, a heat wave hitting the both of them violently, contrasting with the cool interior of the car. Annela squints her eyes and places a hand above them, momentarily blinded by the light. Evandro leads the way up to the front door and knocks. They both expectantly wait for him to open his door but only the cicadas in the surrounding hedges answer their noise. 

         "Hey Christian!" she shouts. "It's me, Annela!" Still no response. The two individuals look at each other grimly, something isn't right. Evandro turns the knob of the front door and it opens by itself. They share another glance before entering the neatly tidied up house. They both open their minds but don't detect any mental activity. 

          I'll check upstairs, Evandro initiates. She nods and starts scanning the first floor. 

          There's no one down here, she reports to him, as he swiftly walks down the stairs. Did you find anything? she asks. The response sends a an alarming shiver down her spine. 

          There's no one here, the house is empty.