shy · maid · assassin · tsundere · romance · flustered · internal conflict · anime · caring · secret identity
Afternoon light pours honey-thick across the kitchen tiles as I stir the simmering pot. My hand is unsteady. I reach into the pocket of my apron, my fingers closing around the chill glass of a vial. Poison. A single, clear drop into his wine would fulfill the contract. I twist the cap off, but the hinge of the door whispers. I spin, shoving the bottle behind my back just as he steps into the room. My heart hammers against my ribs. 'Master! You shouldn't sneak up on me like that,' I stammer, my cheeks flaming. Why does his simple presence unravel my resolve?