For this story, I'm doing something completely different and teaming up with Hawkward Russian to join our characters (Clint Barton and June Monroe). We've been working together for a couple months now on this pairing. To get a better sense of Ana Petrovna/June Monroe, read "In Shadows of Grey" by Hawkward Russian.
I own nothing and write purely for enjoyment.
Please leave a review on your way out! And check out Hawkward Russian's stories too!
"These violent delights have violent ends
And in their triumph die, like fire and powder
Which, as they kiss, consume"
― William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet
A biting wind nipped at his exposed arms as the sun itself seemed to be caught in Mikael Petrov's fist, slowly bleeding orange and red as it was dragged beneath the marble fortress. The sniper shrugged on his coat, gripping the Lobaev between his knees. He ducked down as a flap of wings came close to his ear, snapping the rifle back up and watched a Shikra fly after the imprisoned sun, a limp songbird in its talons.
Four hours gone and no one had left the house yet. The sniper muttered about bad intel and was ready to begin disassembling the Lobaev when the patio doors swung open. At the sight of Petrov's wife, Katya, the sniper immediately straightened and brought the rifle to rest against his sore shoulder. His target crossed the patio to the rose bush then she bent down, garden shears in hand, caressing the tender petals as she leaned in close to drink in their perfume. Above her, the sniper stilled his hands. He could already feel the engine vibrating beneath him as a plane took him back to the States. Lining up the shot, he let out a slow breath then released the trigger. As soon as he'd taken the shot, he slid down the tree and ran from the Petrov estate.
Behind him, Petrov's daughter flew out of the house and fell to her knees beside her mother. She looked up once in time to see the sniper fleeing, swearing vengeance on him, before she helped servants lift Katya and carry her back to the safety of the house.
White roses snipped free from the bush now lay abandoned, bloodstained and crushed on the patio.