THERE WAS something about the way that Astra Hart was so blissfully ignorant to her position in the word, so chaotically unaware of her surroundings, that was almost laughable.

Like, seriously — sometimes he wondered did she even realise there was an entire fucking gang out for her blood?

Okay, that was a stupid question. Obviously she knew that.

Then again, everyone did. So it's not saying a lot.

But the way she was just sitting there in that coffee shop alongside one of those stupid fucking FBI agents that she'd grown to care for ( who would've thought a criminal could become friends with a bunch of cops? ) sipping from her cup like she didn't have a care in the world, and wasn't being watch at any given second, was starting to piss him off.

She needed to understand that there's so much more to life than her incredulous image of it. Astra Hart needed to remove those rose-tinted fucking glasses if she was ever going to be able to grasp her true reality. 

Sadly, though, as each day passed, Astra's revenge-driven anger towards the Black Wolves grew weaker — while her fondness of the BAU intensified — those distorted government views on how maybe revenge isn't the best option, only strengthened.

And he couldn't have that.

No, you see, she was a star. And stars shine brightest when there's no-one else around to distract them from their true purpose.

And seeing as Astra Hart was so disgustingly happy, so horrendously oblivious right at this moment, he felt it was only necessary to ruin it.

After all, she needed to realise that she was her own star. Or, something of the sort.

And so, he approached their lively table, two plain scones in hand, and a small gut feeling of guilt over ruining the somewhat peaceful state she'd been in for the past few weeks

Ah, but alas, people are shit. So, he handed her the baked good — briskly walking away afterwards.

Then it happened.

She turned around to inform the waiter that she definitely hadn't ordered a scone — let alone a plain one.

But he wasn't there.

And then it clicked. She noticed the note sitting carefully underneath the food.

Her face had dropped as she read it.

The brunette agent took out her phone, anxiously calling someone up, yelling when they answered.

Hey, what can he say? He's a nice guy for warning her.

And seeing as he was so kind to do so, she better fucking show up at the Stellar Bank at 10am, in two hours time, with the hopes to catch the Black Wolves.

They were planning their greatest heist, after all.

authors note.
IM BACK !!
and no i'm not telling you who's perspective this is from.
y'all gotta work it out on your own.
if you can.
AND 50K READS ?? love all of you so much, thanks for sticking with this story despite my slow updates and ( sometimes ) shitty writing