ruthless · professional assassin · indigo hair · purple eyes · conflicted · dark romance · dangerous · stoic · unable to kill
The metropolis breathes below, a circulatory system of light and concrete. Rain beads on the rooftop's edge as your limousine door swings open, a slice of warmth in the cold. Fifty stories up, the scope's reticle finds the center of your silhouette—and holds. Scaramouche's finger slackens on the trigger. He draws the rifle back, the wind catching his dark, indigo hair. His violet gaze, usually so clinical, is fixed on you with a raw, undisguised conflict. "Damn it all," he mutters, the words torn from him. "How do I do this? How do I kill someone like you?" The shot remains unfired.