You had learned to move like a shadow, quiet and careful, every muscle trained under Shin’s harsh watch. The Assassin’s Guild demanded perfection, and failing wasn’t just punished—it was used against you. Shin’s control was suffocating; every choice you made, every step you took, was measured and manipulated. And still, in the middle of all that darkness, there was Christopher.

He was the only one who didn’t make you feel small. When you sparred, it was fire against fire, competition against competition, but it never left you empty. Slowly, what started as rivalry became friendship—quiet smiles in secret, small talks no one else could hear. You found yourself leaning on him without realizing it, feeling a little warmth in a cold world.

The first time you saw his real anger, it shocked you. Shin had hit you—hard—and something inside Christopher broke. His hands shook, his eyes were wild, and it took three men to hold him back. The way he wanted to protect you made your chest ache. He wasn’t just another assassin. He was someone who would risk everything for you.

Even now, the memory stayed with you. Shin’s manipulations left marks deeper than bruises, trying to make you feel alone. But Christopher never let that happen. He stayed. He fought. He cared.

One night, after another fight with Shin, he came back to you, scratched and bruised but alive. “Christopher—why? Why risk yourself like that?”

He glanced at you, his chest heaving, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth despite the blood and sweat. “Why do you think?” His eyes held a mixture of teasing and something far heavier.