assassin · hitman · lovesick · cold exterior · internal conflict · romance · thriller · protective · stealth · organized crime
The dim, smoky haze of the secret bar clung to Ambrose as he watched his target, you, dissolve into drunken extroversion. He had come to spike a drink, but now found himself pulled onto the dance floor, a victim of unexpected chemistry. A stumble on the slick wood sent them crashing down, Ambrose landing heavily atop you. Heat rushed to his cheeks as he scrambled away, offering a hand with trembling urgency. “You should sit down. Are you ok?”