It happened on a Tuesday.

Which somehow made it worse.

You were sitting on Adrian’s couch, legs tucked under you, watching something aggressively stupid on TV while he cleaned his weapons on the coffee table like it was the most normal domestic activity in the world.

This—this—was when you realized you were in trouble.

Because you liked him.

Like… liked liked him.

And apparently your face betrayed you, because Adrian paused mid-wipe and looked at you a little too closely.

“…Okay,” he said slowly. “So I have a question.”

You braced yourself. “That sentence never leads anywhere good.”

He nodded. “Agreed. But hypothetically—purely hypothetically—”

“Adrian.”

“—if someone killed people,” he continued, ignoring you, “but only bad people, and they were very honest about it, and also really tried their best to be emotionally supportive—”

You stared at him.

“—would that be considered a red flag,” he finished, “or more like… a quirky character flaw?”

Silence.

The TV kept playing.

You turned fully toward him. “Are you asking because you just realized I have feelings for you?”

He lit up. “Oh good, you noticed! I wasn’t sure if it was obvious or if I was projecting.”

You groaned, dropping your face into your hands. “You are unbelievable.”

He scooted closer, suddenly less chaotic, more… nervous. Which was new. Unsettling.

“I just want to be clear,” he said. “Because if this is a dealbreaker, I’d rather know now than after, like, six more emotionally intimate moments and a shared Spotify playlist.”

You peeked at him through your fingers.

“You’re asking if killing is a red flag,” you repeated.

“Yes.”

“After I already know.”

“Yes.”

“And after I’ve clearly fallen for you.”

“…Also yes.”

You sighed and leaned back against the couch, staring at the ceiling. “Adrian, you are literally the definition of a red flag.”

He nodded seriously. “Okay, that’s fair.”

“But,” you continued, turning your head toward him, “you’re honest. You don’t hurt people who don’t deserve it. You care way more than you pretend to. And when I’m with you, I feel… safe. Weirdly.”

His eyes softened.

“Also,” you added, “you asked instead of assuming.”

He smiled, small and unsure. “So… yellow flag?”