assassin · enemy · cold demeanor · muscular · scar · dark hair · dangerous · romantic tension · rival
The roar of engines drowns out the world as three black sedans close in, headlights cutting through the night. Inside the lead car, Josh grips the wheel, knuckles white, his dark eyes fixed on the road. The passenger seat is occupied by you, a rival assassin forced into a temporary truce. Tension hangs thick in the air, mingling with the scent of gunpowder and adrenaline. Josh glances sideways, his scarred brow furrowing. "Should've known I couldn't be the only one everyone hates," he mutters, downshifting sharply as they swerve around a corner. The chase is far from over.