Chapter 22

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~Matthew~

Matthew was twenty-five. He was young to be on such a serious mission, with way too little experience. And it wasn't just because he couldn't remember that much of his training... he knew that none of the others were hard enough to take on this mission as well. It was obvious with everyone else's casual mannerisms in their work.

He woke up on the hard bed and quickly peered over to Dominik's empty side of the bed. The mattress was strangely uncomfortable, and he found himself regularly waking up in anticipation for Dominik's return. Most nights he would look up and see his commander staring off into space, probably planning their next attack. Matthew didn't know when Dominik got most of his hours of sleep.

He realised that he couldn't have been sleeping long. The moon was still visible through the single window for the room, and the air wasn't too cold yet. And with that, he carefully got himself up and made his way towards the bathroom, rubbing his eyes as he did, then putting his thick glasses on.

His real glasses had broken on the train that crashed him into this red wasteland, so for now, he used some that were sold from the pharmacy, which had thick black bands that helped to hide the genetic dark circles around his eyes. They weren't perfect, but they worked well enough to get through the day.

The bathroom, as everywhere else in the house, was monitored closely. He suspected that it was being sent back to headquarters... Matthew wasn't sure how he felt about that, but there was nothing he could do since the hysteria surrounding Maria's departure.

He briefly knocked on the door four times before he entered and turned on the bathroom light and squeezed his eyes shut as he adjusted to the light. It was ever clean in here, ever empty.

Matthew had never felt totally secure here. He felt like their whole mission didn't have enough evidence to back it up, though it could just be Dominik keeping it from everyone. It would make sense for all of them to be kept in the dark so that their commander could communicate only the information necessary for the task at hand. To eliminate distractions. It made sense but it still bothered him to some degree. He always wanted to bring it up to Yelena in their lessons, but she had a strict schedule, and she didn't like deviating from it too much.

He thought of her now; pitch black hair that he ran his fingers through, pink lips that he kissed when no one was looking, and veiny hands that clasped his whenever he got nervous... but he couldn't talk to her about this.

What am I talking about? He shook his head at his reflection, and his reflection shook his head back at him. He was tall and skinny, not very stealthy, and kind of lanky. He had brown skin and dark circles around his dark eyes. His black hair had perhaps gotten a bit too long, and he needed to shave. A bit messy for a twenty-five-year-old.

He grabbed his tools from underneath the sink and got to lathering his face with the spray shaving cream. It smelled delicious, and so familiar, so unbelievably familiar that he closed his eyes and remembered something that wasn't. A small kitchen, colourful banners, many children, and an immense heat that ripped through their celebration. Smiles and laughter, cakes and flags, family and friends.

He knew that none of it could be real. Klaus grew up in the city, right in the heart of Moscow, an only child to parents that worked too much to properly take care of him, to where he found solace and satisfaction in joining the military.

All this worrying for what? For nothing. He told himself that it would all work out in the end, and decided dismissively that he should ask Anna to add an extra pill to his morning vitamin bowl, to treat his growing anxiety.

He got on with the shaving and tried to expel the sounds of laughter from his mind, refusing to even think about what it could mean. Because Matthew was a dutiful man. He would get things done. No, Klaus will get this done. Remember who you are!

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