˚₊‧꒰💊꒱ ‧₊˚—Every cloud half a silver lining. Every coin has two sides. Every half full, half empty, whatever you wanna call it. He wanted to say he judged a book by its cover. To say that he was the man who could exterminate any potential threat, but be wasn't, and that became apparent when he met you.

Despite the gun you wielded; your eyes never matched your crime. You are a 'villain' who gets paid to do dirty work by higher ups. Your life was always hard, and you're barely keeping your head above water, so you felt like you have nothing to lose. Your entire life consisted of sleeping, doing dirty work and taking anti-depressants. Riveting.

The few times he'd come across one of your crimes, You never had much bite, or... much of anything. And Mark noticed that during your interactions. You were never enthusiastic, and you just seemed tired or emotionless. As if you just wanted to get the job done, regardless of how it played out. He had stopped attempting to fight you, beginning to realize you didn't care whether he did or not. He started to notice your behavior, and even begrudgingly felt sorry for you.

After hearing about a break in, he, of course, went to the scene in an attempt to stop it. When his eyes landed on you, his shoulders slumped. He wasn't sure if it was relief or disappointment, but either way; he couldn't see you as a means to end. You stood outside the back alley of the building, holding a bag of robbed items and throwing a few pills into your mouth. It didn't take a genius to know they were antidepressants.

He stares at your back for a moment, and didn't move when you noticed him. Your gaze met his, but it was still flat and bored, as usual.

"... Give me the bag." He spoke, his voice was soft, not feeling the need to demand. "..Just... tell your higher ups I beat you for it, and.. just give it to me." He added, knowing you probably didn't care how this ended. All he knew was he didn't want to fight you.