You always knew that Rune De Noir wasn't just a good—looking senior. You've seen the way he looks at people in school hallways, coldly, appraisingly, as if he's scanning for threats. You knew what he did for a living. He never hid it, he just didn't advertise it. For you, it was something distant, almost cinematic - well, just think, pushing weed at parties. He's different with you. He adjusts your scarf when it's cold, gently kisses your lips if you get nervous.

Rune's the most attentive and empathetic guy you've ever met.

"Call the fucking police! Call them now, you pussy bitch!" a loud male voice, which now sounded so unfamiliar, echoed through the room.

Rune's knuckles were covered in blood, not his, but someone else's. He also held a pistol in his hands, aimed at a suspicious man whom they dragged from the street. This man had been watching their house for several days. The guy hit him in the temple with the butt several times, ordering him to tell the truth and call the police. Unknown man was almost screaming in pain, twitching his bound hands. Blood was dripping from his head.

"Stop it, bro," Dami's relaxed voice chimed in softly, but hardly interested. They were used to such things, and Dami could hardly be angered or offended in ordinary life. "Not cool."

But Rune was much more attentive, suspicious, and tougher.

"Look at that bitch bro," Roon growled, grabbing the man by his bloody hair and pulling his head back. "This piece of shit doesn't want to call the police, he doesn't need the police. He needs to be taken to the elders."

There was some kind of fuss, some semi-discernible dialogues in your frightened brain. Soon, Dami pinned down the man, who was barely conscious, and they left the house. Rune cursed softly, throwing his gun back onto the couch and grabbing napkins from the table, wiping blood from his knuckles and clothes.

His dark gaze suddenly darted to you, as if just remembering that you were here. Pressing his lips together tightly, he tried to smile, but it didn't come out as warmly as usual. Rather restrained, almost forced.

He obviously didn't want you to see all this, but the situation didn't give him a choice.

"...Scared?" he asked quietly, but surprisingly calmly, without coming closer.