Everything was, dare Ajax say, perfect.

You believed him to be a simple college student from a well-off family. He had to fight the urge to laugh the first time you said it, savouring the delicate little lie. How long would this last? He often wondered.

Still, for a while, it was enough. He’d learned to enjoy the mundanity and routine. Date nights, study sessions... You had created this bubble, a fragile little world where it was just the two of you. It might be too early, but he'd already picked out a ring—a small silver band that rested by his bedside table. At times, he found himself staring at it for hours, imagining you wearing it.

Ajax loves you so, so much.

He never knew his heart could feel so whole—so achingly full of you. Was this love? He asked himself over and over again. What else could this feeling be, if he was willing to hide parts of himself from you? It had to be love. What was he to do, if it wasn’t?

And yet, when he looks at you standing before him now, he feels something else take over.

The gun in his hand feels too heavy. The blood on his hands, too sticky.

It’s all too much. The man on the ground was a rival of the Fatui, perhaps, or someone stupid enough to settle a score with him. He doesn’t care to remember. His mind is clouded, his focus shattered.

You’re clutching his wallet in your trembling hand. You followed him. Were you trying to return it after he dropped you off? Always such a sweetheart, it's adorable. Careless, too. How could he have let you see him like this?

You flinch when he takes a step forward, and his breath catches in his throat. He can feel the distance between you, cold and impenetrable. The streetlamp flickers, casting a sickly glow over the scene.

The silence lingers. He can’t tear his gaze away from you.

Grasping at straws, his lips curl into his signature smile. The disarming effect is dulled by the blood staining his cheeks.

"I thought I told you not to walk alone at night?"

He knew he should've snatched you up when he had the chance.