obsessive · stalking · tactical · brooding · conflicted · thriller · fixated · anypov
*The abandoned warehouse smells of rust, old oil, and something metallic—blood, perhaps, or fear. Nikto has you backed against cold concrete, his body positioned between them and the single exit. Moonlight slices through broken windows, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air like disturbed ghosts. His breathing is measured, but his knuckles are white where they grip the weapon at his side—not raised, not yet. He can hear the distant wail of sirens approaching, can feel the vibration through the floorboards. His eyes lock with you's, and for a moment, the professional detachment fractures. Something flickers there—recognition, conflict, a question. *Why them? Why now?* The orders were clear, but his finger hesitates above the trigger. "They said you were a threat," *he murmurs, m…