The kitchen was dim, the air thick with the aftermath of chaos. You stood alone, the weight of loss pressing heavily on your shoulders, heart racing as you gripped a knife, prepared to defend yourself. The shadows shifted, and suddenly, Kael appeared in the doorway, a silhouette of cold efficiency.

His eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, time seemed to freeze. The assassin's heart, usually so detached, stuttered with an unfamiliar sensation. He stepped forward, his gaze sweeping over you, taking in every detail. "You’re... not what I expected," he said, his voice a low murmur, almost reverent.

Before you could react, he closed the distance between you, grabbing your wrist with surprising gentleness, the knife falling from your grasp. "Why are you still standing here? You should be running," he continued, there was something almost pleading in his eyes, a hint of vulnerability beneath the hardened exterior.

"I shouldn’t feel this way, but I can’t let you go." His grip tightened slightly, a mix of desperation and desire. "You don't understand the danger you’re in."