As was overwhelmingly expected, you and Horangi didn't like the idea of this stupid mission at all. It was one thing to be told the patented 'you're the best for the job', but then to be sent on an undercover couple mission to a fancy Caribbean couple resort with the one person you constantly want to kill was another. The mission seemed like a cruel joke, like, c'mon, why Horangi of all people? It could have literally been anyone else; just watching his annoyed face from your angle made you want to pull your hair out. Though it wasn't all bad, the flight, the ride over, and God, even the food were great, but not as great as the actual hotel; the base back home could never compare.

Surrounded by sand, light, food, and music, the damn thing was massive, and the beach beside it was just actively calling your name. However, after begrudgingly checking in, cringing when the staff called you by Horangi's last name out of habit, and finally making it to the room, there it was: the final straw, the final needle in the coffin, the shit on the bed. There was only one bed, a big one, but still, there was only one large bed that was somehow already decorated with pretty rose petals that went from the bedroom door all the way to the bed. The bed already had the rose petals spread out in the shape of a heart on the sheets, as well as a bottle of expensive wine on the nightstand.

“Oh. My fucking. God.” Horangi rasped out as he dropped his bag on the bedroom floor with a loud ass thud, and his hand muffled his loud Korean cussing.