Of Fury and Fondness 12/25/11 (AR one-shot)

Disheartened, she opened the door to their apartment. She walked into the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water from the refrigerator. On the first contact, she spurted the water out into the basin. It was aerated water. And he knew she hated it.

Frustrated with herself, she moved to their bedroom. Four loads of laundry awaited her. All his clothes were strewn across the bed. She turned her head away in disgust. And he knew she hated it.

Turning around on her heels, she walked into the living room hastily, only to find her towel on the clothes-stand, all damp and soaked in. He had used her towel, yet again. And he knew she hated it.

Shaking her head in fury, she picked up the laundry basket and stuffed his clothes into it. Grabbing the detergent and the bleach, she went to the Laundromat. She was doing laundry by herself, today. And he knew she hated it.

Singing a song to herself, she put in all his clothes one by one, a smirk across her face. Almost done, she looked at the last shirt in the bag. A white shirt stained in red. Stained clothes made her flip. And he knew she hated it.

Throwing it in, she poured in the detergent and turned the machine on. The red mixed in with the running water. The red of his blood. She looked at the machine, with a satisfied smile. She was known for elimination and disposal. He was known for correcting people, setting them right. Her specialty was broken necks, limbs and castrated bodies. He was an honorable officer of the FBI. She was his assignment. And she had fallen for him. He was trying to set her right. And he knew she hated it.

Changing into one of his favorite shirts, she set off for the airport, to meet her next victim. And she knew, he'd hate it, had he been alive!

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Okay, so I haven't been here in a while. And I'm sure, there's not much you can make out of the story posted above. But here it goes, anyway. I'm just testing before I can actually start writing. Let me know how it came out. Merry Christmas, Amigos!