Up, down, left, right.

Erwin absent-mindedly registered all the possible exits in the ballroom. Anywhere a sneaky little murderer could run through. Or worse, spring from.

Earl Anderson had given someone instructions to enter the ball, find him, slit his throat, and leave. As payment, the said person would receive their weight in gold.

At least, that's what Earl Anderson had told him; before Erwin had slit his throat. He was sure that the person Anderson had sent was unaware of their employer's death. So, now all he had to do was find and kill the Assassin without getting killed first. And he'd be in the clear. Easier said than done, however. It had been about 2 hours since this had started, and nothing looked out of the ordinary.

He was leaning on a pillar, looking at the doorway on the balcony that led to the inside of his home. When someone catches his eye.

He didn't remember inviting that fellow.

A short man with raven hair meets his gaze from across the room. Erwin expects him to look away; he doesn't. Strange. No one has ever engaged in staring contests with him. They always end up losing.

He's quite unremarkable. Nothing about him stands out, despite his natural attractiveness. And speaking of attractiveness...goodness, he truly is a looker. Inky black hair neatly styled to frame his face, a slender frame that's accentuated perfectly by his rather plain suit...

Only one word comes to his head.

Assassin.

He's lost in thought, so lost that he doesn't realize that the man has looked away, crowning Erwin winner of the staring contest. As usual. From he was young, people went on and on about how intense his gaze was.

Empowered by the victory, Erwin gives him a nod, easing off the pillar and stalking towards him. Call it morbid curiosity, but he was just dying to know more about the man Anderson thought could kill him.

He didn't look extraordinary. He was on the smaller side as well. Could his suspicions be wrong? Though he really didn't remember inviting this man.

He walks until he's few inches away from the raven, smiling politely. "Good day."

The man, who seems a bit irritated (perhaps due to his earlier defeat?) nods in respect. "Afternoon." His voice is surprisingly deep.

"How are you finding the party so far?" Erwin hums, leaning on the wall beside him. He doesn't miss how the shorter male scoots away.

The assassin clears his throat. "It's cool."

Erwin has to hold back a snort. Cool? Such casual language.

"A lot of interesting people at your party, sir." The man hastily adds. Good save. But not good enough.

Erwin's convinced now that the man has snuck in. While it's a stretch to say he's plotting a murder.

"Please, call me Erwin." He moves closer, tone dropping to a whisper. "All those formalities, they really mean nothing here." He says kindly.

"Huh." That's all he says.

They go quiet for a while. Erwin needs the man talking. He has no intention to kill the man exactly, not yet at least, considering how damn intriguing he was.

He intends to play the man like a fiddle. He intends to play the role of an oblivious victim while garnering information. At some point, he can lure the man away and have his men put him into custody.

But boy, he's tight-lipped. Clever boy.

"Well, could I have your name?" He asks.