rayroy

'One Shot' is the nickname of the best sniper and secret agent who's about to get a promotion - if this mission goes well. But little did he expect to meet an 'Angel' on the roof that night who'd mess up his chance. But that is only the start of the weekend.

The drunk angel is not who she seems to be, and soon, both fall into a web of intrigues they might not get out alive. Watch out for this action romance drama!
If you only have one shot, you better make it count.

Weekly updates planned.

SPOILER ALERT: Now for those who want to figure out the story and the character background themselves, I'd advise you to stop reading from this point as the next paragraphs will contain SPOILERS of season one and the characters.

SPOILERS AHEAD! (proceed with caution): Three candidates have made it to the final round to the next promotion as top secret agents. Alexander (aka "One Shot") with a perfect record is in the lead; Jack, a self-proclaimed rival, is close behind, and unknown to both, a third candidate is in the race: Angelica (aka "Angel"). The two followers pursue different strategies to make One Shot fail: Jack wants to make him mess up, but his plan fails when Angel interferes. She has a different motive: to make him choose her out of his own volition and give up his position as a secret agent for love. Jack mistakes her for One Shot's girlfriend and changes his plan. His new idea: kidnapping Angel and threatening One Shot to give up the promotion. Things become even more complicated when friends and family become involved, an ex-best friend's betrayal with the ex-boyfriend, and a wedding. Who of those three will win the promotion? But maybe more importantly, what are their motives behind getting it? A new order comes in and only the one who successfully finishes this will be promoted. The mission: find the traitor among the spies.

Angel & Agent

About half an hour later, Angel adjusted her glasses as she took a final look in the mirror. The first look in the mirror had given her quite the scare, with her loose strands of her hair standing to all sides, her makeup gone, and her clothes completely out of place with inexplicable stains. But now, after the hot shower, new clean clothes, and a touch of makeup, she was feeling better.


"This works," she smiled as she admired the dress which was floating down gently from her shoulders down to her knees. It fit her style, though she usually didn't wear dresses anymore. Not at her age.


Carefully, she stuck her head out and glanced towards the room. The man from earlier was still on the couch, lying down this time, but had managed to change into black jeans and a tight black shirt in the meantime.


"Excuse me?" She said without being able to address him by name, but it came out almost a whisper. As she approached him slowly, she noticed he had his eyes closed. One hand was resting on his stomach, the other was draped over his forehead maybe in an attempt to shade his eyes from the morning sunshine. The top of his shirt was still unbuttoned, and his current position resembled a fashion model more than anything else. His breath was deep and calm. For a moment, she hesitated.


With soft steps, she walked over to the counter and poured herself a glass of water which she gulped down in one swift motion. She noticed a notepad and pen and wrote down a quick message before taking out a business card from her bag and placing all items neatly next to one another.  Then she sneaked back over to the nightstand to pick up her phones and placed them into the loose right pocket of the dress. Lastly, she went to the hallway to pick up her shoes and sneak out without causing more of a disturbance. Her hand reached out to grab the door handle but then paused in midair.


She glanced back. Her fingertips tapped against each other - a habit she couldn't seem to get rid of. She turned around, placed her shoes down as gently as she could before sneaking back into the room and pulling the blanket off the bed.


Sneakily, she leaned over the couch to carefully, very carefully, spread out the blanket over him. She stopped short, catching her breath as his eyelids blinked opened and he mustered her with this droopy, tired look in his eyes.


But then, something flipped. The next moment, she found herself pinned down on the other side of the couch, with his hand holding both of her wrists in an iron grasp over her head. The look in his eyes was enough to send shivers down her back. Maybe leaving would have been the wiser option.


The blanket separating them followed gravity and casually slid down onto the floor.


CLEANED UP