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Literature Text
Rex knocked on the doctor’s door before punching in his security code and waiting for the door to grant him access.
“Wow,” Rex whispered in awe taking in the doctor’s private rooms. Ivy and hanging baskets of flowers lined the walls turning the usual sterile Agent Quarters into a garden riot of color.
“That’s a kind assessment.”
“Sorry.”
Rebecca smiled and shook her head then gestured to a vacant chair. “Please sit.”
“Yeah, sure.” Rex gripped the back and spun it around before sitting. “So why did you want to see me alone? Don’t tell me you’ve decided to confess your feelings for me.”
“Oh heavens no, though I did want to talk about feelings, just not my feelings.”
“But mine?”
“Yes,” she confirmed with a curt nod.
Rex leaned back in the chair making two of the legs lift. “Oh-kay, shoot. I’m an open book.”
“So tell me, how long have you been in love with Noah?”
“Wow,” Rex whispered in awe taking in the doctor’s private rooms. Ivy and hanging baskets of flowers lined the walls turning the usual sterile Agent Quarters into a garden riot of color.
“That’s a kind assessment.”
“Sorry.”
Rebecca smiled and shook her head then gestured to a vacant chair. “Please sit.”
“Yeah, sure.” Rex gripped the back and spun it around before sitting. “So why did you want to see me alone? Don’t tell me you’ve decided to confess your feelings for me.”
“Oh heavens no, though I did want to talk about feelings, just not my feelings.”
“But mine?”
“Yes,” she confirmed with a curt nod.
Rex leaned back in the chair making two of the legs lift. “Oh-kay, shoot. I’m an open book.”
“So tell me, how long have you been in love with Noah?”
Suggested Collections
Holiday and Rex have an awkward conversation. Noex:Noah/Rex. Mentions of Holix: Holiday/Agent Six. Just a fun little story.
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Comments5
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Wow. Just go right for the kill, eh, Holiday? 
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Vanessa: Oh, a hanging basket! You know, I don't care for manure at eye-level. Imagine your sleep-walking with your mouth open, and crash into that basket. Wake up with the mother-in-law's tongue half-way down your throat.
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Vanessa: Oh, a hanging basket! You know, I don't care for manure at eye-level. Imagine your sleep-walking with your mouth open, and crash into that basket. Wake up with the mother-in-law's tongue half-way down your throat.