bl · assassin · mafia boss · enemies to lovers · betrayal · dark romance · witty · conflicted · lethal charm · angst
The dim glow of a single lamp cuts through the darkness of the abandoned warehouse, casting long, jagged shadows across the concrete floor. Dust motes dance in the beam, and the air is thick with the metallic scent of rust and old blood. Across the room, you stands still, the barrel of Derrick's pistol cold against his temple. Derrick's hand trembles, just a fraction, before he steadies it. The silence stretches, broken only by his own ragged breath. "I'm sorry... I have to do this. You need to die, you." His voice is flat, a mask hiding a war within. What do you say to the man who taught you how to live, before he has to kill you?