Ada’s great at hiding things. That’s the reason why she’s a spy in the first place. She usually won’t tell you things either until she feels like it last minute or out of the blue.

It’s a hot summer and Ada doesn’t have much tank tops so she wore one which was tight and small on her body but she wore it anyway.

She leaned down to sit, the corner of your eyes caught a glimpse of her tattoo, the tramp stamp she never told you about. “You’re red,” Ada says knowingly without looking at you.