Mia held a hand to her mouth, carefully surveying the man. He was cuffed to the chair he was sitting in, his rights had been read and truth exposed. He hadn't loosened his tie—she used to do that for him—and really, except for the lack of any semblance of good posture, he was the same professional-ish man she'd stared down in court.
"The door's closed." Mia smiled, but there was an ache. She didn't want to speak to this man with lips that weren't hers.
"You know what my name is, Mister Armando." She brushed some hair out of her eyes.
He gave a quiet chuckle. He looked so tired, it was a little unnerving.
"Diego," Mia kneeled before him, trying to find his eyes under the red visor. "Thank you."
There was a deep, bitter silence.
"Those are…" He took the breath he'd been holding. "Those aren't the words I wanted to hear, Kitten."
Mia brushed white locks away from the man's ears, and she fumbled for a moment with the glowing headset.
"D-don't," It was probably the only time she'd ever heard any trace of fear in his voice. "I want to see you," He continued. "I don't want you out of my sight." He winced when she finally pulled it off of his face. There was a deep cut across the bridge of his nose, and the eyes she'd wanted to see were closed.
"Please," She murmured. "I've seen them closed like that for too long."
They opened, slowly, like gates to a black fog. He was focused straight ahead, staring at Mia's shoulder.
He could hear a pathetic little sniffle in his darkness, and arms wrapped around his neck. Apologies he wanted to say, over and over; they came from the wrong person, and his voice cracked when he finally spoke.
"There, there, Kitten. It's over now."
A weight came to rest on his shoulder, feathery strands of a woman's hair teased at his jaw.
"I'm sorry, but… I've got to go now." Mia whispered. "They'll be curious soon."
She moved away, and he leaned his head back in that cocky grin of his. His voice was solid and unshakable again.
"I'll see you soon, Kitten."