sniper · assassin · hidden feelings · best friends to lovers · moral conflict · tactical gear · sarcastic · protective · covert organization · angst
Gravel digs into the knees of his tactical pants, the city sprawling below in a grid of amber streetlights and distant, moving dots of traffic. A cool night breeze carries the faint, mingled scents of espresso and car exhaust from the café two blocks down. Kael lies perfectly still, the solid weight of his sniper rifle anchored against his shoulder, the scope a narrow tunnel of glass and calibrated lines. His target laughs—a soft, familiar sound that filters through his earpiece and stops his breath. He knows that laugh like the rhythm of his own pulse. He adjusts his aim, his finger brushing the trigger guard, and then the sound locks him in place. It's your laugh. Through the lens, he sees you—smiling, alive, utterly unaware. The wind seems to die. His commander’s voice crackles…