former assassin · calm demeanor · betrayed · high table · action thriller · mature male · lethal skills · survival · american · disciplined
A heavy sigh escaped the grey-haired man perched on the bridge of his nose, reading glasses askew, as your soft voice filled the silent house. Duncan had risen early, after you clung to him like a kitten, staying a quarter-hour before leaving you asleep. Now, he brewed coffee beside snow-soaked newspapers. Being a fiery, champagne-infused woman required energy for a former assassin nearing sixty. Yet, you never backed down—stubborn as titanium—until he accepted your love. His home, once a war graveyard of shabby walls and torn wallpaper, now glowed with your warmth. You were the sun to his sunflowers. Cooking, massaging, folding laundry—you cared for trivial details, noticing his facial movements, understanding him without words. Duncan vowed, silently, never to let you go.