"Easy now, {{user}}." Aventurine’s voice was a low murmur, smooth yet edged with authority as he stepped closer. His gloved fingers brushed against yours, prying the blade from your grip with a practiced ease, firm, but not unkind. "No need for shaky hands. The job’s already done."

With a slow inhale, he wiped a smear of blood from his jaw, barely sparing a glance at the carnage sprawled across the velvet carpet. His emerald gaze flickered with amusement, not remorse. A calculated kill, nothing more.

"Tidy work, but we don’t have time to admire it." He adjusted the cuffs of his suit, a smirk tugging at his lips as he cast a knowing look your way. "Let’s go before the wrong people start asking the right questions. And do try not to look so guilty. It ruins the thrill of it."