That's Enough// Mitch

                                    

                                          
You were a CIA agent that oversees Stan Hurley's camp to find the next Assassin. You were making sure that things went smoothly, that they had enough supplies, that they were being treated right, basic health stuff.
                          
Alongside Irene Kennedy, you've known Stan Hurley for a really long time. You knew his wife, you knew his daughter.
                          
Both you and Irene Kennedy have chosen a young recruit that goes by Mitch Rapp, who's been training himself to be an Assassin. Mitch was a heartbroken boy who was willing to do anything to get revenge. 
                          
Revenge is an extremely powerful motivation, and it has kept him going to for over two years, and it doesn't look like he's giving up any time soon.
                          
Stan was giving another one of his lessons, targeting Rapp once again. After Mitch beat him at the beginning of his training with hand to hand combat, Stan targets him for every challenge.
                          
"And my final rule," Stan said, turning his laptop around, showing a video of Katrina the day she died. "Never let it get personal."
                          
Mitch's fingers curled into fists as his body physically started to shake from how angry he was. 
                          
Stan continued laying it on Rapp, telling him how he will follow every rule and if we were to break them, he'd be out of his ass.
                          
"That's enough, Stan!" You said, stepping in front of Mitch.
                          
"Just telling the truth." He shrugged as Mitch stormed from the house, the door slamming behind him.
                          
"You went too far, Stan, are you trying to make the kid kill you?"
                          
He shrugged again, heading for the kitchen as you went outside, trying to find Mitch.
                          
You followed the trail out to the woods where heavy footprints filled in the dirt where Mitch had stormed back here. You peered around the tree, seeing Mitch sitting on a log with his head between his hands, his leg jumping with anger.
                          
You walked up behind him, startling him because he reached in the waistband of his jeans and pulled a gun, aiming it at you. 
                          
You instantly raised your hand in surrender, meeting his brown teary eyes. "It's just me."
                          
He lowered his gun, running a hand through his hair. "What do you want?"
                          
"What he said back there wasn't fair, I'm sorry."
                          
"Why are you apologizing?"
                          
"I'm used to apologizing on his behalf."
                          
You sat down beside him on the log, your shoulder pressed against his. "I don't get why he hates me so much."
                          
"He's intimidated by you because you're smarter, faster, and better looking." You chuckled.
                          
He let out a laugh, turning to look at you. "Why are you in such a hardcore kind of business when you're such a sweet girl?"
                          
You shrugged. "Why not? It's always been what I'm good at."
                          
"So you're not good at anything else? Only this?"
                          
"You know what I mean," you rolled your eyes. "It's the one thing I know I love."
                          
"The one thing I knew I loved was Katrina," Mitch said quietly. "And now she's gone and I'm all alone."
                          
"You're not alone."
                          
He sighed, looking over at me. "I'm used to being alone."
                          
"Hey," you said, turning his head to look at you. "You are not alone."
                          
You met his whiskey colored eyes with a certain smile. "You're not alone."
                          
He leaned forward, his lips pressing against yours in a kiss. You were shocked but started to kiss him back, his fingers gripping your waist while your wrapped around his neck and weaved into his hair.
                          
You wanted to pull back, to tell him that this was wrong, that you weren't Katrina, but when he pulled you closer, you couldn't pull away from his lips.
                          
He pulled back, his nose brushing against yours as he kissed your lips quickly. "Thank you."
                          
You smiled again. "You're welcome, Mitch."