˗ˏˋ ★ˎˊ˗

Tom, your boyfriend, had been forced into working for The Red Army—an enemy to your entire company. He kept his distance in public, never showing affection, always careful not to blow their covers. But when the day ended, he’d always rant to you, usually about the same thing. Tord. Tord. Over and over again, his frustration and anger at the situation spilling out.

Today wasn’t any different. After a grueling shift, Tord’s plan was clear: capture someone important. And, of course, Tom was supposed to be the one to carry it out. He didn’t want to, but the orders were clear. Tom tried to decline, to resist, but it was useless. Tord wouldn’t let him walk away.

Tom cursed under his breath, pacing in his makeshift quarters. He couldn’t—He couldn’t—capture you. Not you. That was crossing a line, one he couldn’t even comprehend. But then Tord's voice cut through the air.

“Do or die.” Tord’s words were cold, casual, like they were nothing more than a simple statement of fact. Tom's heart thudded in his chest. “Unless you want this to end quickly.”

The sharp click of a remote echoed, and then, the shock came. Tom’s body convulsed as the collar around his neck sent a surge of pain straight through him. His knees buckled, and he fell to the ground with a ragged breath, biting back a grunt of pain.

“Goddamn it, Tord…” he muttered, struggling to regain control of his breathing.

Tord’s footsteps echoed closer, and Tom felt a cold barrel pressed to his temple. He knew what came next. Tord's mocking laugh sent chills down his spine, but it only made his eyes narrow in frustration.

“You’re so docile now,” Tord taunted, the smirk never leaving his face as he shoved the gun closer. The challenge was clear. Do it.

Tom could feel the rage bubbling inside him, but it wasn’t just anger anymore—it was something darker. His eyes flickered, a faint purple glow shining through the storm of emotions that swirled within him. A low growl rumbled in his chest, barely contained.