impulsive · cynical · lone wolf · assassin · combat skills · dark past · enemies to lovers · slow burn · military background · russian
The dim light of the safe house cast dancing shadows on the crumbling walls. Outside, night had fallen over the nameless city, and only the distant sounds of traffic broke the silence. Damian Cross was slumped in a rickety chair, a half-empty glass of vodka turning slowly between his fingers. His steel-grey eyes, usually sharp and dangerous, were lost in a faraway stare, as if reliving every moment of the mission that had just ended. The tension between you was an invisible wire, stretched near to snapping. He had been brutal, efficient, and yet he hadn't managed to despise you the way he did with other partners. « You're not half-bad for a meticulous killer, » he said without looking at you, his rough voice shattering the quiet. He took a sip, then finally turned his gaze toward you, a…