Chapter 34: Normalcy

A/N: Okay we're back in New York y'all. This chapter is a little shorter than what I've been putting out lately, mostly because I wanted to show what the life dynamic has been like since they came back from vacation and we jump into the really messy stuff in the next chapter. We're about to introduce more characters into the fold and see more of John's perspective in the coming chapters. May everyone have a very Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!


Like many preceding mornings, the first thing that woke you up was John's alarm clock. It goes off regularly at six o'clock on the dot, blaring with the intensity of an ambulance.

While you considered waking up at that time severely egregious, it obviously suited John just fine. Only responsible people with no life and old people wake up this early. John was clearly among the latter category but what's crazy is that he did it entirely by choice. He chose to start his day early and while there wasn't anything remotely wrong with that, you were just used to waking up a little later. Typically around nine or ten - times you considered reasonable for someone your age.

With your head nestled comfortably on his chest, John's scent easily encapsulated your senses, fully immersing them in a pleasing state in which you didn't want to derive from. The sound of his strong, steady heartbeat lulled you further into a state of soothing quietude.

Without having to open your eyes, you felt your lover reach over to turn the alarm off. On a day like this, you were due to wake up in a few short hours anyway and you had quite the stacked schedule ahead of you. Unable to stop yourself, you tightened your arms around him to prevent him from leaving your embrace.

Every morning, you repeated the same routine, reluctant to let him slip out of your grasp. Assuredly, your lover responded by wrapping his arm more securely around your shoulders and pulling you even closer.

Despite the fact that you both had somewhere to be, you both still made the conscious decision to lay pliant in each other's arms for some time as if nothing else mattered. Somewhere along the line, it had become essential for you to start the day.

It was a while before either of you moved again, far too content to savor the other's presence before you eventually had to part. John carefully detangled himself from your hold, sitting up fluidly from the bed. You watched him groggily stride the bed to the closet to procure a suit for him to wear.

From understanding, he'd been contracted for an exclusive job assignment and was set to leave out sometime today. John began the extensive process of packing for the excursion by laying several other provisions across the bed.

Due to your own personal preference, you decided to rise a little earlier than you usually would. Squinting at the light from the large windows, you rose unsteadily from the bed.

Much like him, you went about your morning routine, albeit a bit earlier than you normally would. Honestly you thought about sleeping in for another hour or so but you didn't trust yourself to not repeatedly hit the snooze button on your phone.

Stretching like a cat, you strode into the bathroom.

Opening the small wall closet, you procured two face cloths, one for you and one for John. By the time you finished washing your face, John was walking in, taking his normal place at the sink right next to yours. You thought it was convenient that he had two faucets instead of one and you often wondered why he made the design choice.

Following that, you set about brushing your teeth before placing the tube of toothpaste within John's reach for him to use afterwards. Naturally, the two of you moved in unison, not hindering each other's actions but instead helping one another in the process. You'd grown quite used to it. All of it is usually done without a single word spoken in-between.

After spitting in the sink, you rinsed out your mouth and headed downstairs.

Predictably, Sweetface immediately runs over to greet you, pressing his wet nose to one of your legs.

You give him a warm smile.

He'd been such a sweetheart the past few weeks, regularly showing you with all kinds of affection when in the vicinity. It was only right that you give him the same in return. He followed you closely into the kitchen, standing at your side as you opened the lid to the coffee maker.

After loading the coffee grinds in the maker, you opened the fridge and began examining its contents therein. John soon made his way downstairs shortly after and the adorable pooch quickly turned his attention to his owner. John strode to the front door, letting the dog out to do his business and get the newspaper off the doorstep.

You shivered as the cold air from outside hit your skin and you silently wished you'd put on your housecoat.

January had not only come in with a crisp resurgence but it came with bleak moral obligations as well. Just as you'd talked about, you and your lover had begun enacting necessary life changes. Things were different now than they were at the end of the previous year - you both had a schedule to adhere to and a common goal in mind.

Looking to the man for his opinion, John merely responded by pulling out the pantry drawer and grabbing a box of cereal.

"Okay, cereal it is." You said, closing the fridge and moving to make him a freshly brewed cup of coffee.

John's preferred breakfast cereal was a healthy alternative of bran flakes while you generally favored choices like Fruit Loops. Although your go to was usually Cocoa Puffs, you couldn't get enough of Fruit Loops lately. As a matter of fact, you just got the current box a barely week ago and it was almost finished.

After a short learning period, you'd figured out exactly how he liked it - a spoon of creamer with two scoops of sugar. You handed the warm mug to the man to which he graciously accepted.

Sitting next to John at the island, you poured the cereal into the bowl with the milk following soon after. From there the two of you ate in companionable silence. In a matter of minutes your bowl was empty and you were already pouring yourself more cereal.

John, having finished himself, began quietly reading the newspaper while drinking his coffee.

Admittedly, it doesn't take long for you to finish off the second bowl and soon you're moving to place both of your bowls in the sink.

In view of everything, you were curious about the job he was hired to do.

"How much are you getting paid?"

"Five million." He answered nonchalantly, he could be talking about the weather going by his casual tone. He was probably used to being paid big sums of money like that.

Truth be told, if you ever got paid five million you would literally never work again.

"Lucky. I only get paid thirteen-fifty by the hour." You said, shoveling another spoon of cereal in your mouth.

"Sounds delightful." He replied, not even looking up from the printed paper.

"At least you have it made…who else gets paid five million for a single job?" You asked mystified.

"You work by choice as an establishment of your choosing, I'd say you have it made just as I do." John calmly explained, eyes continuing to bore into the printed editorial.

"If you don't want to work why don't you just say no?"

"Simple. I work to keep up the appearance of work. I don't take jobs, people start to notice. One cannot simply choose to not accept work without certain repercussions." He spoke, taking another measured sip of his coffee.

Consequently, the explanation the man gave was soundly reasonable and it made perfect sense. If you were honest, you were surprised that you hadn't thought of it that way. Obviously you had no clue of what kind of figure he had to be for his absence to be noticed immediately. Once again you had to take into account the world he operated in a world you knew next to nothing about. What seemed abnormal to you might be commonplace for him. Even paid killers had a reputation to uphold.

The two of you lead very different lives with very different obligations.

"Is it in the country?" You quired.

"Out."

"Do you know when you'll be back?"

"Should be no longer than three days at most."

"Okay." You said, trying to seem slightly upset about his answer.

Sighing quietly, you wisely said nothing more. Generally, John leaving for days at a time for assignments always made you somewhat anxious. You didn't really know why because he always comes back in one piece with minor cuts and bruises marring his skin. You have to remind yourself every time that he's a professional who's been doing this well before you came into the picture.

This was what you agreed to. Admittedly, he wouldn't be doing it for long - a few more contracts and he'd be able to quit right? There wasn't any cause for you to worry.

You silently took his and your bowels to the kitchen sink.

You didn't know why you were feeling the way you did.

Oftentimes, your stress riddled brain refuses to let you have a moment of rest and for a period, your mind was at several places at once. Remaining busy and distracted kept you from any internal strife about situational and metaphorical events alike but you can't pretend like most of your anxiety wasn't mainly centered around your relationship with the assassin. You wonder if there's a legit study behind why some people tend to feel more anxious when their romantic relationship is entirely healthy and thriving.

John contributed to a huge portion of your emotional and physical wellbeing. He had a reason for everything he did and you trusted him to make logical decisions even on his and your behalf. Him allowing you to work and continue school was for your own peace of mind, that way your major priorities aren't being pushed to the side. Because of this, you think it's important to get to a point in a partnership where you can simply flourish and take care of business with the support of said partner.

Since returning home, you and John have been existing in a safe, comfortable bubble that was only interrupted by him having to work and you returning to school and your own job. During that time, there wasn't anything for you to stress about, nothing for you to feel anxious about. As you see it, the two of you were making good on your promises to one another. So why was it any different?

In most cases, simply being comfortable with each other can lead to long term contentment. By all accounts, you and him are in a trusting, flourishing relationship. Based on that alone, you shouldn't be having any distressing feelings. Truthfully, you really couldn't bring yourself to stress over anything regarding him - it's what you believed and you deemed that belief was enough to get you though.

Deep in the midst of thought, you nearly flinched when you felt a familiar heat draw close along your back. Inhaling deeply, you breathed in your lover's scent as he wrapped his arms around your waist, drawing you in closer to his body. Everything always felt so right in his embrace, your skin immediately heated up at his touch.

In his arms, everything fell away to the background and the only thing that existed was him.

John's large hands began coasting up and down your sides, presumably working to ease you into a sense of comfort more to his liking. That only took a short time before he was bending you slightly over the sink, using one of his thighs to part both of your legs.

One of his hands came around the front, sliding dexterous fingers into your panties and began gently rubbing the lips of your labia. Your body stirred right away, sudden desire spawning in your loins. He only teased around your opening and your core wept in excitement.

Moments later, a stiff pulsing muscle brushed against your exposed warmth. You whined as he slowly started to press into the grip of your inviting orifice. John's heated girth gently pushed past your saturated folds, seating itself directly inside the center of your pleasure. Methodically, your inner walls clumped down around him. He filled you so precisely and fluidly and you always found it immensely pleasing.

Your breath hitched, lower half promptly tensing at the intrusion. Considering that, you've done this way too many times to be shocked at him entering you; you felt extra sensitive for some reason.

"Uspokoysya moya lyubov`." He murmured lowly against your ear, deep voice coated with hunger.

You let out a shuttering voice as you adjusted, your delicate inner muscles fluttering around him.

In spite of the man assuring you that you wouldn't be late, the languid pace he kept made you think otherwise. Once you started, you and him could easily go at it for hours. The pace he utilized he could draw it out for as long as wanted…


Contrary to your initial belief, John didn't make you late as you believed he would. After two quick but intense orgasms, he let you go on your way, albeit with a little limb in your step.

In spite of everything, you still considered it a great morning.

The first place you started your day was at the internship you weren't able to start in the fall. From what you heard, it had undergone quite a few changes since then and many were grateful for it. Including yourself.

Dana, as the Publications Director you worked under, had a lot of pull when it came to major and minor companies and network operations.

The fact that it was a Black woman who headed the program made it that much more fulfilling. You know all too well the feeling of your existence not feeling being welcomed amongst a group of specific individuals. A work environment where you feel supported, cared for, and valued was important to you. In addition to that, there are actually people you can actually conversate with and work alongside without any issue.

At first, you worried about how your contributions would be judged but Ms. Dana was quick to assure you that any idea was welcome to be brought to the table. It was such a relief. She was generous enough to walk you through everything with the utmost grace and patience. Through her guidance, you were able to make the best of the experience and it was definitely a learning the best part…it was a paid internship, something rare these days. You definitely appreciated the extra change in your pocket. Now was the time to start thinking seriously about a long term career path.

In a way, it was like you worked two jobs. Not to mention, it was more hands on than you were expecting. You're busy from the time you stepped in the door up until it was time for you to leave. That's why it was important to manage your time wisely. While working under a senior broadcast journalist, you worked on multiple projects, sometimes in conjunction with one another. For the most part, the tasks varied by the day. Your specific job consisted of conducting factual research on topics and information.

When everything wraps up nicely, you bid your goodbyes and take off to make your only class for the day on campus. Luckily for you the internship is only a good theory minutes away from the campus, otherwise you'd have a problem on your hands. Regardless, you still make an effort to get to campus as quickly as possible.

The class takes about an hour and a half but the professor tends to let everyone out a little earlier if he can help it.

In all honesty, you hadn't prepared yourself for how weird it would feel starting classes again after everything that happened. The eagerness to come back was there but so was the feeling you couldn't put a name to. You tried to think of it as an extended winter break and not the result of you having a falling out with your former professor.

Despite your best efforts, you tried and failed not to scroll absently through Pinterest out of sheer boredom from behind your laptop. Not only that but you hated having to type "Black Girl' after having to search up every little concept. That's the way it is though.

Mr. Murphy was a nice, mild-mannered old man but he talked too slowly. He spoke of his enthusiasm for his chosen subject but no one would know it given the cadence of his voice. He doesn't alter much in the lesson plan to make the lecture more attention grabbing. Aside from the occasional glance up and nod to show him you could at least keep up the appearance of a listening, attentive student, your attention was mainly glued to your cell phone. It was the only thing keeping you from falling asleep.

All you can really think about is paying that small campus café with the really good croissants. You haven't had one in a while and you've been dying for one.

The girl sitting in front of you had the cutest, triangle parted box braids and you want to tell her how much you admire them. You'd been on the hunt for another hairstyle since your new growth wouldn't let you be great for long and you wanted to decide on another style before next month.

God works hard but Alexis worked harder. It must be serious since she could find a quizlet for every assignment. She never exerted herself with any school work, not even when you were in high school. You admired her dedication to her craft. Meanwhile Jasmine was already stressing about papers she technically didn't have to start writing until around the middle of the semester.

The class ended and you were then off to work your one to nine o'clock shift at the bookstore. Ethan typically works the morning shift into evening, typically nine to five if he doesn't do any overtime. So most of the time you wind up closing.

You and Ethan do a bit of everything - restocking, reshelving books, cleaning and taking turns managing the cash register and info desk. He'd mentioned to you that the owners were thinking of hiring at least two more workers in the event that you or Ethan weren't able to come in.

Lately, the store had been selling a high volume of used and restored books. Business was moderately busy with a steady stream of faithful customers and the occasional customer that just so happens to wander in. Periodically, a group of middle school kids come and raid the graphic novel and comic book section before leaving. You think they've made the place their regular hang out spot. Ethan was always astonished when they walked in.

"Good to know kids still read in this Tik Tok age." Ethan laughed as he carefully stocked books on the nearby shelf.

"They read stuff on Tik Tok all the time…in between the obnoxious dances that is." You say, sitting behind the corner. You found it way too exhausting to stand behind the counter all day so you have a chair you can sit in when there's no transaction.

"Believe it or not, a lot of customers buy young adult books."

"I don't know man…" He says, dusting the shelves from debris.

The conversation could honestly go on for hours or days. There's some much banter between the two of you regularly - it was ridiculous.

There's nothing like working alongside someone with the same appreciation for books. Being surrounded by books was very refreshing. Sure it could be a little boring at times but you got to see most of the best-selling novels before they were actually released. Frankly, it just wasn't ethical for you to bring another book home before you read the others before it. Overall, it's a relatively cushy job that you were particularly fond of. Though, you would take it over working in a warehouse or fast food joint any day.

Even though talking to customers was fine, there were a select few customers that liked to talk your ear off about their preference of books, authors, and how it correlates to their life. You were more focused on completing the purchase rather than trying to convince the customers to sign up for a membership they didn't really want for a discount. Aside from that, you made it a habit to try and remember faces when you were able. It was just one of those day to day hurdles you were trying to overcome.

The day seemed to be winding down and so did your energy. Once the first few hours of the shift goes by, it's essentially slow until closing. Glancing over to your phone, the black screen stared back at you. In the midst of everything, you wondered what John was doing.


The basement speakeasy provided neutral territory for members of the criminal underworld to congregate amiably when not on business. Customarily, patrons were dressed to the nines occupying various tables and booths while the band played a slow but upbeat melody over the light chatter. Servers carrying trays expertly weaved through the tables to cater and offer complimentary drinks to the rest of the patronage.

The space was entirely frequented by individuals encapsulating the darker side of humanity.

Stale cigarette smoke assaulted his nose. The low murmur of voice floated around the area along with the occasional laugh and clink of glasses. He'd grown used to it over the years and had learned to tune it all out. Frankly, he didn't miss it - in fact he rather hated it now. Considering this was how he spent many a night either before or after a mission. He'd been through his song and dance an incalculable number of times. He'd grown to despise it all - right down to dressing in a custom tailored attire.

John took up a place at the bar, quietly drinking amber liquid, registering the smooth but mild burn of the liquor went down his throat. He stared quietly into the glass, remaining indifferent to his surroundings. This habit of solo drinking right before a mission to gather his wits was normal. The calm before the inevitable violent storm.

John had no desire to be here yet here he was again. He hadn't wanted to leave the comfort of his home - he hadn't wanted to leave you.

"Lost in thought John?"

The charitable redhead bartender stood just behind the bar, flashing that trademark smile she'd become associated with.

"No. I'm fine."

The woman leaned across the counter towards him. "You've hardly looked up from your drink. I didn't think my drink making skills were that good."

"Why do you think I've been drinking here for years Addy?" He replied evenly.

The smile fell away for a brief moment and a more serious tone overtook her voice. "Okay then. But John…if you don't mind me saying. There's that strange look in your eyes again and you don't seem like yourself…do you want to talk about it?"

She was swiftly met with stony silence.

For all intents and purposes, he and Addy had a friendly and strictly congenial relation. Rarely were there actual friends in the business; there were mostly allies and associates. Nonetheless, John knew could not disclose his thoughts and feelings with anyone other than himself and his significant other. Especially taking into account what was currently occupying his inner thoughts. Furthermore, it simply wasn't in his nature to confide in anyone about anything. He'd always been that way and he saw no issue with it. While there wasn't a shred of doubt in his mind that the bartender truly cared and would happily provide a listening ear to any of his problems he may have, John would never be willing to verbally divulge anything regarding his personal life.

One's personal and professional life was to be kept entirely separate. That automatically came as an unestablished rule in the business.

Without a smidgen of hesitation, the man with a blasé, "No. Thank you Addy."

The woman nodded her understanding, giving him another smile before moving to attend to other patrons. She stopped for a moment, turning back towards him with a heartfelt look in her eyes. "Whatever it is…you hold on to that little bit of happiness John. Sometimes it's all we have."

As she walked away, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirrored wall behind the bar. Vaguely taking note of the figure approaching from behind before it moved off to the left. He registered the seat on his side being occupied.

"One martini please."

Inclining his head slightly, John was greeted by the sight of a familiar face - one he'd rather not see at all.

"Hey John."

"Perkins." John curtly greeted.

Even in a deadly profession with organized crime, it was impossible to not to establish some variation of a relationship with those also involved. Through various contracts he garnered acquaintances and colleagues from varying backgrounds. Perkins just so happened to be one of those acquaintances. Aside from a few shared experiences and being within the same traveling circle from time to time, there was nothing particularly noteworthy that needed to be expanded on.

Stiff conversation had to be initiated between them nonetheless.

The woman quietly took in the unsmiling expression along his features.

"I just got back from Prague. I hardly got a break in between the last two jobs." She mentioned. "Haven't seen your face around these parks in a while…not in high demand anymore?" She questioned with a smile, tilting her head in a seemingly curious fashion.

"I wouldn't put it that way. I didn't feel the need to accept any contracts." He stated matter of factly.

Sharp azure eyes swiftly cut over to his.

"Never heard of that one before." She said, knuckles whitened as she gripped her glass tighter.

Arching a dark brow, Perkins inspected her own glass, nose clinking unthinkingly. "Hmm…I'm impressed. Not a lot of us can do that…not accept contracts."

He could see the flicker of anger flash across her features before she tried to conceal it. He knew the woman well enough to know that she could be very vindictive if she felt the inclination.

The air shifted and quickly became charged with malicious energy. Impalpable tension took up residence in John's body, brows drawing together in a guarded manner.

There was an underlying hint of envy in her words in her tone that didn't go unnoticed by him. He picked up on it right away. For some time now, the hitman had been made aware that many of those in the business knew of his reputation. He's built a strong business foundation based off of his expertise and skill. In some ways it's been both a blessing and a curse.

As a direct result of it, he's found himself on the receiving end of praise and being afforded more courtesy, respect and in some cases more leeway than most assassins. As a consequence, he was afforded the privilege of rejecting any offer or contract presented to him and not a single person would bat an eye. For that reason alone, many of his fellow hitmen chose to despise or admire him. It didn't make him feel anything as he wasn't flattered by such sentiments, in fact he rather abhorred them.

Although neither held no true weight or value over the other. While many of his peers held him in high regard, many also viewed him with glittering contempt and he believed Perkins was a part of the latter. It seemed to seep out of her pores, filling the space with unbridled tension. He wasn't surprised, covert hostility often ran between different mobs and professional killers alike.

If only they all knew how much he abhorred his current position. He clinged to the hope that he'd soon be done with this solitary, uncertain life in the near future.

"Could it be that you're past your prime?"

The man's eyebrows rose at the implication. Truthfully, it wasn't the first time he'd heard such a thing.

"Just what are you getting at Perkins?"

"I mean you can only be in the business for so long right?"

He chose to ignore the passive-aggressive, biting remark.

Perkins had a way of speaking that could be interpreted in different ways; if she didn't flat out say what she meant. Of course he understood why she felt how she felt but ultimately it didn't affect him.

John and the woman differed quite a bit in many aspects. While he was more detail-oriented and strategic in his work, Perkins took a more reckless, impulsive approach.

Given the predicament John was presently in, it could be said that both of them weren't that fond of the rules in a sense. She regularly chose to set disregard rules and he was carrying on a prolonged relationship with a civilian.

The fact of the matter was that this life was sucking what little bit of humanity out of him piece by piece. He didn't want to know what he'd become should he have none of it left. And he was perfectly capable of extraordinary feats of violence.

"How about another round John?"

"No. Thanks." He said, regarding his colleague with a cold glare. Any polite gesture on her part came off as entirely superficial and hollow.

Reaching into his breast pocket, John pulled out a single coin, placing it on the counter before vacating his seat at the bar altogether.

Perkins watched him leave with no shortcomings of vehemence.


Just as you came through the door, Sweetface was there in no time wagging his tail so hard that it was throwing him off balance. He was such an absolute sweetheart. You think your mother and John may have to have a custody battle over him.

The funny thing was that your parents agreed to keep him while you and John were on vacation. You're honestly surprised they'd become quite fond of him to the point where he was actually allowed to sit on the couch if he wanted to. Knowing how your mother didn't play about the furniture in the house, you had a hard time believing it when you walked in the house to see him curled up with her.

Laying your keys in the countertop bowl, you turned your attention to the excited dog. "Hey sweet baby. Did you miss me?"

You took the time to replenish his food and water bowls. Retrieving a dog bone treat from the cupboard where you also kept his bag of dog food, you placed it into his bowl. "Good boy. Don't tell your daddy." You say, scratching behind his ears.

You're almost certain he'll stash it in his secret place like most dogs tend to do.

Sighing you felt all the tension and tiredness in your body just in that one motion. Just one more day of the week and you'd have the weekend to look forward to even though two days didn't feel like it would be enough. This was the most tired you'd ever felt and you had to keep yourself from falling asleep several times throughout the day.

Now was usually your favorite time of day, coming home to jump straight into bed. You sluggishly went about your nightly routine - showering, brushing your teeth, and applying night cream to your face after a good wash.

At this point, you barely had the energy to climb into bed. Everyday seemed to leave you drained by the end of it. Not to mention, you found yourself falling at ridiculously early times like seven and eight o'clock. You merely chalked it up to maintaining an active work and school schedule simultaneously. Although you weren't above a nap either, you just didn't have much time to get one in between with your schedule.

You go from internship to class and then straight to work and there's barely any time to do anything else.

Pushing the door open with his nose, Sweetface strolled into the bedroom, hopping onto the bed and taking up his favored sleeping spot at the foot of the bed.

Reaching over towards the nightstand, you pick up your phone.

There's a weighted silence on the other end of the phone and you think he's waiting for you to speak first. Just as you opened your mouth, the man's cultured baritone floated into your ears and it was like a breath of fresh air. "You sound exhausted."

"I am."

"You should get some rest."

"I know it's late…but I wanted to hear your voice before I went to sleep."

"You heard my voice just this morning."

"I know…I just. I miss you and I wish you were here right now."

"I'll return soon." His rich unruffled voice spoke calmly.

At first you weren't expecting him to pick up since he was obviously on business but the fact that he did anyway made you glad.

"I'll call tomorrow."

"Okay."


John gazed at the phone intently before he placed it back into his breast pocket.

He coldly looked over his arsenal of weapons spread out over the bed. As a professional death dealer, he accessed the recently procured weapons with nothing short of detached acknowledgement. They all were to be used on this latest mission.

A well protected dignitary had crossed the line of tolerance with the higher ups too many times and he was to be dispatched quickly and effortlessly as well as any subordinates working under him. Nothing he hadn't dealt with before but frankly, John wanted the job to be over as quickly as possible.

Before him lay personal instruments of death ranging from high-powered guns to sharp knives. He quietly and mechanically began arming himself, fitting the various weapons on his body. It was a process the man was familiar with due to years of repetition. It didn't matter how many times he's done this, it didn't change the fact that he'd rather not be doing it at all. In almost every case, this life becomes your life permanently. Despite everything, he could not accept that as his reality.

He'd hadn't realized how much he needed to hear your voice, it was soothing to him like a deep breath of oxygen. Taking much into consideration, John discovered that he owed you in more ways than he initially thought. You were the driving force behind his motivation to leave the business. So he would endure the missions, he would undergo the cold, hard brutality that attached itself to him whenever he carried throughout his entire bloody career. He was willing to endure it all - willing to risk his life for a mere chance at giving you all you deserved and wanted. He made up his mind some time ago - it was not his happiness that mattered but yours. Because that's how deep his love for you ran.

He pushed all distracting thoughts aside, willing himself to focus only on the upcoming assignment. Lifting the loaded high powered weapon from the bed, he cocked it all but once and placed it in the holster at his waist.


Translations: Uspokoysya moya lyubov - "Calm down my love."

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