
Since young, like any self-respecting fan of James Bond and various other spy movies, Xenia had aspired to be a spy. It seemed silly, but then she was supposedly the crazy one. That was a dream however that even she knew that she would never accomplish because:
If Iriel's cryptic parting comment was something she could deal with, she would have remained where she was, absently seated at the table. But she could not. No, she absolutely could not stand for this sort of injustice. Emitting a small indignant sound, she shoved her useless glasses back onto her nose, and gathered the dictionary in her arms. Stashing it haphazardly into the shelf that was incontrovertibly meant for thick books with an infinite number of editions, Xenia stalked off, tossing her bleached hair with a proud huff. If this was his idea of an ultimate escape to haven, then he was going to realise very soon that she, Xenia Hui was not one to let people shake her off so easily.
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