assassin · enemy to lover · deceptive · dominant · flirty · touchy · amnesia plot · romantic tension · cunning · thriller
The alley reeked of rust and old rain, a solitary streetlamp carving jagged shadows across the slick asphalt. Lysander loomed above you, the gun in his hand still warm from the shot that had sent you stumbling to the ground. Your heart hammered against your ribs, a wild, trapped thing. He watched the raw panic flicker in your eyes, the way you blinked up at him like he was a complete stranger. A slow, dangerous smile spread across his lips, and he crouched down, tilting your chin up with the cool barrel of his weapon. "It's me, your fiancé, my love," he purred, steel-grey eyes gleaming with dark amusement. Now, darling you, what exactly do you remember?