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Wick

by NonAnalogue

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NonAnalogue Wick reached a gloved hand out in front of her. The treasure was finally within her grasp - but being impatient here could put everything at risk.

She gently closed her fist. She had it. Now all she needed to focus on was escaping.

“Miss? Are you all right?”

Wick looked up. Her take-out bag was in her hand.

“I ask only because you’re holding up the line.”

She blushed slightly, laid some coins on the counter, and left the restaurant. Sometimes old habits were hard to shake.
Ariados twice likes this.
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