#47 ways

Rain cascaded down on your hometown and soaked Agent 47 to the bone. He did not mind, instead stepped on through the streets with his coat tightly wrapped around himself.

Your house wasn’t far now. Agent 47 knew how to find it by heart and the familiarity of the route made him increase his speed.

In the distance, thunder rumbled. A muffled noise came from his coat. His hand went up to cradle the source of the sound, and it stilled.

When he arrived at your doorstep, he didn’t have to knock, as if you had sensed him being close and had been waiting for him at the front door.

It swung open and revealed you, endearingly casual, clad in fleece pyjamas.

“Hey!” you greeted, “Do come in, you’re probably freezing.”

He stepped inside in your warm homestead and stood a bit awkwardly in the hallway for a few seconds.

“Shall I take your coat?” you asked him after pressing a light kiss on his cheek, not too fond of getting your clothes all wet, deciding to kiss him a little better later on.

“Uh. Yes.”

That same muffled noise came from his long trench coat once again. You raised an eyebrow, a little confused.

“What’s that sound?”

“I uh… Nothing really.”

He held his arm closer to his chest, and you noticed. “What do you have there?”

Agent 47 opened his mouth to speak, but the words remained unsaid. Instead, he moved aside the lapels of his coat and unbuttoned it, revealing to you what he had been hiding.

Scrawny, with thin red fur, quivering on his arm. “A kitten…” you whispered. “Where did you…”

He cleared his throat. “You should get a towel for it. It’s very cold.”

You nodded and wordlessly took the cat from him, rushing to your kitchen in order to wrap the small thing in a tea towel. In the meantime, Agent 47 took the time to take off his coat and hang it to dry, as well as his shoes, which he placed in the hallway.

The kitten was no older than eight weeks and seemed severely malnourished. You opened your fridge to see what you had, took out a jug of milk and poured some in a mug before placing it in the microwave.

“Will you be able to nurse it back to health?” Agent 47 asked from the threshold. You looked up at him and smiled. “I think so.” you replied, holding the kitten a little closer.

“Where did you find it? And most of all, why did you decide to bring it?” you quizzed him as you took the lukewarm milk from the microwave, stirring it before dipping in your pinky finger to see how hot it was.

“Well,” Agent 47 began whilst you poured some milk on a small saucer. “When I returned from my mission, I heard something underneath me. Nearly stepped on it, too. Its mother laid dead in a ditch a little further away, perished in either the gunfight or the stress that came with it. I…”

He rubbed his neck a bit awkwardly as you carefully placed the now-dry kitten down on the counter top, letting it sniffle the milk before it started to eagerly lap at it.

“I couldn’t let it just… Die.” A small smile tugged at the corner of your lips and you walked up to him, pressing your lips against his in a sweet kiss. “You’re a sweet man, after all.”

The tiniest of blushes built at the tips of his ears. “I uh… The reason I brought it home was because I felt like you could use a friend… For when I’m on missions, I mean. So you won’t be too lonely.”

Your heart jumped in your chest and tears prickled behind your eyes. “Oh, 47, that’s so thoughtful of you.”

Slipping your arm around his waist, you hugged him. He embraced you back, kissing your forehead. “I’m glad that you like it.”

You pulled back, gleaming up at the hitman in front of you. “Thank you.” you whispered.

He tucked some hair behind your ear and softly smiled, leaning down to kiss you.

Though before his lips could hit yours, a loud sound behind you pulled you out of the gentle embrace.

The kitten meowed, loudly, and it looked at you with large, expecting eyes. The saucer it had been drinking from was empty, and it was awaiting a refill.

“Have you thought of a name yet?” Agent 47 asked you. “Hm… Noisy with quite the attitude… Meowana Burnwood?”

Agent 47 blinked in confusion. “Meowana Burnwood?” “Yeah,” you explained, “Like Diana Burnwood, but a cat.”

A huff of laughter escaped him and he shook his head in disbelief, smiling. “Isn’t that kind of mean?” “Well, we could call it Meowana for short. Diana doesn’t have to know.”

He fell silent and looked at you, joy in his chest at the knowledge that you enjoyed his gift to you.

“Why don’t we think a bit longer on the name.” Agent 47 suggested. “After all, red cats are usually male.”

You laughed a little and went to prepare the cat another drink. “Should we name it after Lucas then? Lu-cat...”

Agent 47 raised an eyebrow and smirked. “He, too, won’t appreciate that.”

“Oh, silly me,” you sighed, “I haven’t even offered you a drink yet. What would you like?”

He held up his hand, shaking his head. “I’ll be fine.” he told you, “After all, I can grab my own drink in case I get hungry. Don’t worry about me.”

The outside world was covered in a blanket of snow but you sat warmly inside, staring at the fireplace you had kindled and poked to life with some dry branches.

 Still, cold crept up your shoulders and down your spine, as if it was something that couldn’t be driven away. Not until you’d see  him, alive and well, after all this time.

 You had lived in the cabin for a few weeks now, and Diana had long left. You were waiting, just waiting, calmly, patiently. Hoping that he’d show up.

 Footsteps in the crisp snow - your head shot up towards the window, soon lowering as you realised that it was probably just a deer roaming around the foliage in search of food.

But a deer’s footing is not as heavy, and not as slow - the log cabin was approached by someone with two feet instead of four, and you figured that Diana had decided to pay you a visit, which was strange, since she never came over unannounced.

 You walked over to the kitchen area to get the kettle boiling, knowing that she would like a nice cup of tea after a trip in the snow.

The door swung open and you turned to face her - though halted in your tracks, lips ajar in shock.

 Agent 47 stood on the threshold, beanie on his head to protect it from the cold, boots covered in snow.

 “(Y/n)?” he softly said. 

“Hey, 47…” you managed to say. “It uh… It’s been a while.”

 “What are you doing here?” he quizzed, stepping inside, closing the door behind him.

The sound of the kettle starting to whistle startled you a little and you turned off the stove.

 “Tea?” you asked with a tiny voice. Agent 47 gave you a small nod, taking the beanie off his head before kicking off his boots. 

 “Have a seat.” you told him while pouring two cups, dropping two sugars in your own. 47 preferred it without. You hadn’t forgotten.

 He intently stared at you as you carried a tray of steaming tea and biscuits into the room, placing it on the table before sitting down.

 “I…” 47 began, blinking a few times. 

It took a lot of courage to look him in the eye.

 “You’re here.” he said. “Why are… Why?”

 A blush spread over your cheeks. “I was waiting. For you.”

 “Why?”

 Your lips trembled as you tried to find the words. His questioning expression made you shy and uncertain. “Because I…”

 Looking away, you shook your head, arising from your seat. You brushed over to the window, sighing in defeat. “Perhaps it’s best if I leave as soon as I can.” you admitted, “It’s best you don’t know.”

 “Why?” 

 He had already asked you that same question several times, and yet, you wouldn’t answer it. Tears swam on the brims of your eyes and you blinked them away, taking a deep breath.

 “Because you don’t… Wouldn’t…” you couldn’t get out the words. “There is no way that you could…”

 He stood, walking over to you. “What are you trying to say?” “I love you.” you blurted, pushing past him to the bedroom before awaiting an answer.

 Agent 47 approached, standing on the doorstep as he watched you throw some shirts into a worn down suitcase. “You can say it, alright?” you bitterly muttered.

 “Say what?” “That you don’t love me back. Then I can move on with my life and...”

 You rubbed at your eyes, trying to hide the tears spilling over your cheeks. “Here, I was, hoping that you’d return. And I made up a hundred scenarios in my head and went over them, as to what would say to you, or what I would do, or what I could suggest, but…”

 A deep sigh left your lips and you rested one of your hands in your neck, straightening your back, attempting to calm yourself down. “Now that you’re here… Things are so different that I don’t know… I don’t know what to say.”

 Agent 47 calmly stared at you, taciturn as ever. 

 “It was silly of me.” you muttered, “And naive. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

 “I’m happy that you did.” 47 told you. “Because I’ve been thinking about you a lot.”

 Your head shot up in disbelief, a deep frown forming on your brow.

“You’re just saying that because you think I want to hear that, don’t you?”

 “No, I’m saying it because it’s true.” Agent 47 stepped closer until he was an arm’s length away, and you looked up to let your eyes find his. “You mean a lot to me, (Y/n).”

 “But you don’t love me in the same way.”

“I don’t even know what love is.” he admitted, “So no, I don’t.”

 You stepped back and turned back to your suitcase, continuing to pack it.

 “I knew that you’d break my heart, and yet-” “Teach me.” 

 You halted in your actions and sharply inhaled. “Beg your pardon?”

 “Teach me how to love. My future is suddenly mine to decide upon, and I’m happy that I ran into you, because whenever I think of  later,  I think of  you.  I’d want nothing else than to have you there, and I wish for my heart to belong to you.”

 Again, you cried, but this time with happiness. “Oh, 47.” You reached for his hand and gently took it, squeezing it. “I will be patient.” you promised, “And if there is anything you need, just say the word. I…”

 Pausing, you stared into the icy blue of his eyes, gently smiling. “I want to walk into the future with you.”

 “The past is behind us.” Agent 47 told you. “Whatever is ahead, I want to face it together with you.”

 Oh, how much you wanted to kiss him right then and there. It would be  too intimate for now. “Can I embrace you?” you softly asked, and he gave you a nod of affirmation.

 Burying your face against his chest, you felt how his arms wrapped themselves around your form, a bit ill at ease, but he’d get there. He smelt of pine and nylon, mixed with the scent of cologne and a hint of sweat.