I paid no attention to the amount of force I used to slam the locker room door shut but judging from the way Corvey jumped out of his skin, it must've created a fairly loud bang. I didn't hear it over the sound of my thumping heart.

"I'm not gonna kick your ass, 'cause that would raise suspicions," I spoke slowly and clearly, taking cautious, deliberate steps toward the pipsqueak in front of me. There was a slight tremor in his legs; I had to fight hard to supress a laugh at the sight. Weakling.

"But let me make one thing perfectly clear," I continued, picking up my pace a little. Once I was close enough, I clamped my hands down on his shoulders and gave a small, sarcastic smile; he flinched at the impact, shutting his eyes. "Under no circumstance are you to ever touch her like that again, you hear me? She's not yours, nor will she ever be, so back the hell off. You understand?"

He nodded vigorously and I could see the fear swirling around in his wide eyes. Good. He should be scared.

"Wonderful," I flashed him a dazzling smile and stepped back, patting him once on the back, "then we're done here."

I spun around and started for the exit, hearing him sigh in relief. My hand was just about to grab the door handle when I remembered something.

"Oh, and," I turned to look at him, "You're not training her anymore. Not in this life or the next."

~

I watched her as she brought one hand to her mouth to stifle a yawn; she was clearly half-asleep and I felt only slightly guilty for cutting her slumber time short. But contrary to what she might think, it wasn't an unnecessary move. If I hadn't woken her up to do this, she would've been back in the centre tonight with that imbecile Corvey – God, even thinking of him made me sick – and we couldn't have that. No, we couldn't. Not at all.

If anyone was going to be rolling around on the floor with her, damn straight it was going to be me.

She was tiredly rubbing her eyes now, trying to brush away the remnants of sleep as she creased her forehead. I noticed that her lips were pouted, and I turned away before I could get any debauched ideas.

I flexed my jaw as I began rolling my sleeves up and cleared my throat as I backtracked away from her, willing my mind to focus on the task at hand: her training.

"Let's start with the basics. Reflexes."

She sighed and continued rubbing her face. "I already did reflex training with Corvey," she pointed out; I just barely bit back a growl.

Why did she have to go and bring him up? He was idiotic and incompetent; I don't even know how he ever passed training. He could never have trained her properly – so why did she approach him in the first place?

Images from last night flashed in my mind – of him standing so close to her; of her smiling genuinely at him; of him touching her...

Fuck, it made me mad. It's obvious that he has a thing for her – a pathetic, schoolyard crush – but he can't have her. She's not available for him to claim as his own. And I would crush him if he ever tried to pull a stunt like last night again.

And I think I made that pretty clear to him in the locker room last night.

But, I still had to make it clear to her.

"Yes, but," I flicked my hand forward, sending the blade flying straight at her head, "I'm not Corvey."

I didn't want to kill her – obviously – so I purposefully aimed a few inches higher than the top of her hair. She wasn't aware of this, and the way she was currently glaring at me, panting and eyes broadened by shock, showed that she had been sincerely scared for her life.

It was an irrational fear; I would never hurt her. Couldn't if I wanted to. Not her. But she wanted to be trained, and so I had to prepare her for the worst.

I stared at her with a blank expression, noticing her jaw tightening, fists clenching, and chest heaving. Annnnnd cue the hateful yelling in three... two... one...

"You're right. You're not Corvey. You're a fucking maniac. What the hell was that, Brendon?! You almost killed me."

I rolled my eyes, starting to think some of Corvey's stupid rubbed off on her. Did she honestly think I would kill her? My job is literally to prevent her from being killed.

"If I wanted to kill you, I would've aimed lower – for your heart. That way, if you ducked, the dagger would catch your head; you would've died either way," I shrugged.

"Wow, okay. Thanks. Thank you for that," she remarked sarcastically, irately ripping her jacket from her body and aimlessly tossing it to the side. 

"It's a pleasure."

We spent the next forty-five minutes practicing her reflexes in hand-to-hand combat. She wasn't too bad, I'll admit, but she definitely wasn't where she should've been after her previous bout of training. That's just proof that Corvey was a god-awful trainer; she shouldn't have gone to him.

I went relatively easy on her, making sure to hold back on the strength of my punches and kicks. Even so, I countered almost every move she made, and I could see her becoming increasingly unmotivated to continue.

I offered some words of encouragement as we went along, and that seemed to draw her back in when she started losing focus, but then her mind strayed for a millisecond too long, and she found herself knocked to the ground.

I felt a marginal pang in my chest as I watched her land with a harsh thud. Her hand flew to her ribcage and I almost caved and rushed over to pick her up, but I refrained, and a moment later she started pushing herself up.

"C'mon, (Y/N)," I sighed, making sure that my voice conveyed irritation and disappointment and mentally drowning out the microscopic amount of concern I had felt; neither of us needed me to show that. I did, however, extend a hand to help her up. "This is basic stuff."

"Not according to Corvey," she retorted, wincing as she rubbed her side, "He said that was Level Four stuff."

Again with fucking Corvey! Motherfucker. Why won't she stop bringing him up? Corvey this, Corvey that. Fucker is probably gonna headline my dreams tonight with the amount of times she's mentioned him.

"Last time I checked," I grit my teeth, not even bothering to mask my annoyance, "it's me who's training you. Not Corvey."

"Yeah," she said, furrowing her brows, "Why is that exactly?"

I knew exactly what she was asking, but I feigned innocence, raising my eyebrows in a silent request for her to elaborate. I would deny it to my death.

"I tried for weeks to get you to train me, and you refused. Then, as soon as I went to someone else for help, you decided that you would. Why?"

"I just changed my mind," I stated simply. Which was the truth. I did change my mind. As for the reasoning behind that change... that was irrelevant.

"Yeah, obviously," she snorted, "but why? Were you... jealous?"

Fucking fuck.

No, I was not jealous. Why would I possibly be jealous? Scientifically speaking, there are commonly three reasons for an individual to show signs of jealously.

One: insecurity. I am quite feasibly the least insecure person on these premises.

Two: obsessive-compulsive disorder and/or paranoia. Nope, don't have either of those.

And three: a history of feeling jealous. Never in my twenty-five years on this earth have I ever been jealous of anyone or anything.

Ergo, I am not jealous, and she is delusional.

I let my head tilt back somewhat and scoffed before looking at her with a half-smirk. "Jealous?" I cocked a brow, "Why would I be jealous?"

"I don't know," she took a step towards me, "You tell me."

"Believe me, sweetheart, there's no reason for me to be jealous."

"Then why the sudden change of heart?" she pressed, clearly wanting a proper explanation as to why I finally found it acceptable for me to train her. Sadly for her, she wouldn't be getting one.

"Why not let me continue training with him?" she carried on, "I thought he was doing a pretty good job."

Oh, well that's fucking lovely. She had to go and say that. Now all I can see his fucking hand on her precious face. Honestly. I hope she scrubbed it after.

"I noticed," I muttered, hardening my face.

"What's that supposed to mean?" she frowned.

"You two seemed to hit it off really well," I said, a hint of venom in my tone, "Or do you just let every guy touch your face like that?"

"Wha..." she shook her head in perplexity before recalling what I was referring to; then, she snarled at me, "You were spying on us?"

"I wasn't spying," I corrected, "I just happened to be near enough at the time to see it."

"So you are jealous!" she scoffed incredulously, poking me in the chest with a small smile. "I knew it!"

Maybe.

"I am not, nor will I ever be, jealous of him," I spat.

"You spied on us! I think that's a pretty clear indication of jealously."

"For the last time," I growled through clenched teeth, pulling my face taut, "I wasn't spying! The Director sent me off duty early and since I'm your bodyguard, I came to look for you. When I got here, I saw you... with him."

"And got jealous."

Yes.

I inhaled and exhaled shakily before lowering my gaze and advancing on her. She kept up her taunting resolve – clearly believing she was right – but still backtracked as I got closer to her.

"(Y/N), I am S.H.I.E.L.D's best agent for a reason. I'm stronger, faster, smarter, and more superior than Corvey will ever be. Anything he can do, I can do a million times better. You thought he was a good trainer? I'm a great trainer. The things he would've taken months to teach you, you can learn from me in one week. I have no reason to be jealous of him. I am better than him. In every. Single. Way."

I meant every single word that I said. Every single one. And she knew it, too. She knew that all of it was true, and she knew that no one causes me to feel jealously.

No one.

Except her.

Maybe.

Sometimes.

Fuck, I don't know! I don't know anything right now, other than the fact that her and I are merely a fraction on an inch apart and it's becoming progressively harder to not kiss the fuck out of her.

The way she was looking at me wasn't helping either, and I swear to god I was about to slip up but thankfully, she spoke before I could.

"In every single way, huh?" she chewed on her lip.

Stop that, before I kiss you.

"Can you prove that?" she challenged.

My eyes narrowed infinitesimally for a second and carefully, I lifted my hand before gently and slowly running the outside of my index finger down her cheek. Her breath hitched in her throat, and her cheeks heat up, which didn't go unnoticed by me.

"See?" I smirked, "Hotter touch."

She didn't reply and I stepped away, not trusting myself. "Now that that's settled. Let's get back to work."

She was so responsive, fuck.

I'm screwed.

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Thank you for reading x