The shutter clicked as Peter snapped picture after picture of his mark to send to his employer. The body lying before him was sprawled on the cold floor with a single bullet hole between the eyes, blood and brain matter painting the rug just a few centimetres away. His employers never really ask for the pictures but Peter did it anyways because, firstly, the photos served as proof that he had finished the job; and secondly, because he believed that, if someone paid him to do their dirty work, they should always see the result. They had to see what they asked. Click. Click. Click. Click. Peter snapped pictures from different angles until he was satisfied and left the penthouse. He shoot a web and exited through one on the windows into the city below, where he blended with the shadows and swung from building to building until he reached the alley next to the hotel he was staying at. He changed into his civilian clothes and entered the place. He went straight up to his room, where he took a drink from the minibar and lay on the king-sized bed.
"I'm leaving tomorrow night. I can send the pictures to my employer when I wake up and spend the rest of the day to go take pictures of the city…" Peter thought as he flipped through the TV channels. "There's a really nice river right outside the city and I'm sure Aunt May, I could go there and take some pictures for her… It's been a long time since I visited her… I miss her…" It had been at least five years since Peter went to his Aunt's house. He was always paranoid about her safety when she was with him - given his line of work -, but sometimes it was just too dangerous for his aunt to be near Peter. He still sent her cash every six months in a sealed envelope. He had way more money than he would ever need and it would help May a lot. He sighed and sat on the table. He picked up the phone and asked for room service. If his employer was so willing to paying for the hotel themselves, Peter was sure to make himself comfortable. He decided to watch a movie while he waited for his food, which arrived twenty minutes later.
"Good evening, Mr. Howlter," The young woman greeted Peter, batting her long eyelashes. "Here's the food you ordered. Double cheeseburger with peppers, tomato, lettuce, pickles, extra bacon in garlic buns with double fries, right?" she asked as she rolled the service table into the room and lifted the plate lid, revealing the greasy food. Peter's lips curled upwards as he smelled the mouthwatering burger. His enhanced metabolism demanded lots of food with even more calories. "Is there... Anything else I can do for you, sir?" she purred, twirling a lock of her hair and looking into Peter's eyes.
Ignoring her advances, he thanked the service lady and led her out of the room, saying that he would call if he needed something and closing the door in her disappointed face. "Sorry, miss. I don't have time." Peter sat at the table by the window as he ate, enjoying the nightly view. He groaned when he bit the burger, it tasted as amazingly as it looked and smelled. That was another perk his line of job included: Sometimes he got to taste amazing food and visit very beautiful places. He devoured it, brushed his teeth and went to sleep after setting the alarm. He thought about the day he had ahead of him as he fell asleep…
As soon as the alarm went off, Peter turned it off and got up. He had a quick shower before turning his computer on to send the pictures to his employer. After that, he packed his things and left the room, he went down to the lobby and checked out before going to the hotel restaurant and have a massive breakfast. Once he felt satisfied, he left the building and strolled across the most famous or important places of the city, taking lots of pictures. He snapped picture after picture of everything he thought would look nice or called his attention.
Once he finished with the city, he took a bus that could take him to the outskirts and walked towards the river. The current was strong and there were reeds swaying on the edge of the banks, butterflies and other insects swarmed around them. Peter hurried to take his camera out, his aunt would love this scenery. He spent the next couple of hours just walking along the river banks, taking hundreds of pictures of the river, the grass and the landscape in the horizon. When the sun began to go down, Peter decided it was time to go back to the city. He walked back, again, taking photos of the same places he had already captured with his camera, now bathed in a soft, orange glow. He took the bus back and then a taxi that drove him to the airport, where he presented his fake Id and first-class ticket.
The flight was peaceful and Peter dozed off most of the time.
Peter dropped by unannounced. Before he could think better and remembered the long list of reasons this was an awful idea, he had already knocked on his aunt's door and waited for her to open up. He shifted his weight from one leg to another and hid further in his hoodie. He never felt one hundred percent safe visiting his aunt, he always worried and tried to keep the meetings short. Peter stiffened his back when the door opened. His aunt had not aged one single day. Her white hair was longer, tied in a loose bun and her eyes shone with happiness when she recognized her nephew under the dark hoodie. She gasped before she hugged him tightly and kissed his cheek repeatedly and ushered him inside and into the kitchen, where she put water in the kettle and went to prepare some coffee but ended up hugging him again, as if she feared he would vanish when she was not looking. She asked about his life, where he had been, about 'that job that pays so well', the places he had travelled to since he had last visited her. Peter scratched the back of his head as he tried to answer each and every of her questions the best he could while not revealing much of the nature of his true job. He showed May the pictures he had taken and apologised again for not visiting her.
"It's just… I do travel a lot and… you know…" You are never safe around me because I'm one of the best mercenaries in the whole world, which means I have a fuckton of enemies who would stop at nothing to hurt you because you are the light of my life and if they discover you are the only family I have left, they would kill you without a second thought because they want to see me suffer and I can't lose you. I lost everyone else already and if keeping you safe and happy means I have to stay the fuck away from you then I will but it's been years and I really missed you and I came here in a moment of weakness because I know you are better off without me and I will say nothing about how much in danger you are because of me because I don't want to freak you out…" His mind worked a mile a minute while his aunt poured coffee on two mugs and sat in front of him in the small kitchen table and continued her interrogation.
"I know, Peter, honey," she said softly as she caressed his cheek. "A job is a job. I'm just happy I got to see you after so long, dear." Peter held his aunt's free hand with both of his and circled it with his thumbs. He had missed her warmth so much!
"I thought about you everyday, Aunt May. I have taken tons of pictures of the places I've visited because I thought you would like them." He smiled a real smile. One neither of them had seen in five long years. They kept chatting until night fell. As they were having dinner, Aunt May talked about her friends and about the cute, funny man from the fourth floor who baked far too much pancakes and always gave her some of them every Sunday and told Peter about her new knitting group. She thanked Peter for his Christmas, her birthday and Mother's Day's gifts. "I loved every single one of them, don't get me wrong, but sometimes I would prefer a letter or even a postal, dear. I worry about you, you know?" She said with a gentle smile on her face.
"It's a pity that you have to leave, Peter, dear. Are you sure you don't want to stay the night?" She asked when Peter announced that he had to leave, stating that it was getting late. He shook his head and apologised. "Oh, well. I only hope you don't take five years to visit me again, young man. Come again soon, honey. Will you?
Peter lied when he told her that he would.