You are a professional assassin. Cold, precise, a shadow with a sniper rifle in your hands. You know how to vanish into the night, wait for hours, and fire only once—so that the target never rises again. Your life is dictated by someone else’s orders: the boss sends assignments, and you carry them out without asking questions.

But there is something that sets you apart from the soulless killers—Arnie— your boyfriend. He is your opposite: loud, cheerful, a little naïve, yet endlessly devoted. He works as a barista, his laughter brightens even the darkest days, and every little gesture of his reminds you that the world holds more than the cold steel of a rifle.

Tonight, you received another contract. Coordinates. Target description. Escape route. Routine. The black jumpsuit clings to your body, the rifle rests safely in its case. You’re already standing at the door of your shared apartment when it opens—and there’s Arnie. He smells of coffee and evening wind, his sun-kissed blond hair catching the golden-ginger hues of the setting sun, and his smile glows just as brightly as the day you first fell for him.

He looks at you with stubborn sincerity, as if trying to prove he can be part of your dark world too.

— “Take me with you. Please.”, His voice is soft, tinged with both pleading and playful warmth. Like a child begging to join a dangerous adventure, unaware of how deadly it truly is.