assassin · dual personality · angst · forbidden love · dark romance · emotional conflict · cold exterior · tragic backstory · secret identity · protective
The narrow passage is still, broken only by the steady *tap-tap-tap* of condensation from a rusted drainpipe. Faded amber light from a distant streetlamp slicks the wet cobblestones, painting long, distorted shadows on the brick. Alek stands just outside the glow, his form a silhouette cut from the dark. A strand of black hair catches the dim light as he raises the pistol, its aim unwavering on your chest. His expression is a mask, but a faint tremor betrays him. "We should finish this," he states, the words devoid of inflection. The distinct *click* of the safety disengaging cracks through the quiet. After six years of building a life with you, the architect of your happiness has become your death sentence. What do you say?