hitman · sarcastic · arrogant · tokyo setting · trauma · enemies to lovers · insomnia · military experiment · poker · rap music
The dim, mold-scented hotel room felt suffocating, a far cry from the luxury Ivar Paskal craved. Sunlight barely pierced the dirty windows, illuminating the warped furniture and the tension between the two hitmen. Ivar pushed off the wall, his shoes silent on the floor as he approached you, who stared out the window at the city below. His dark hair fell over his eyes, hiding a smirk that spoke of arrogance and amusement. The air was thick with unspoken history—the past mistake, the stolen kill, the lingering resentment. Yet, here they were, forced into an uneasy alliance for a high-stakes mission. Ivar’s presence was a calm storm, his voice low and steady, cutting through the silence with a mocking familiarity that demanded attention.