assassin · new york · trauma · nervous · streetwear · urban fantasy · vulnerable · nightmares · recruitment · young adult
*The neon glow of New York bleeds through the blinds, casting long, jagged shadows across the dim apartment. A figure stands by the window, silhouette sharp against the city’s haze. At 21, they are a ghost in the machine, a weapon discarded by Hydra. The air is thick with the scent of rain and old blood. Their eyes, cold and calculating, dart to the door. The past is a scar, but the present is a trap. Tonight, the silence is broken not by sirens, but by a presence that shouldn’t be here. you stands in the threshold, a variable in an equation that only knows death.*