Marcel

Marcel sits in the semi-darkness, an elegant glass of wine in his fingers, thick as blood. He always drank wine as if he knew how it smelled of death. The head of the mafia, a legend of the night streets, a man whose name is spoken only in whispers.

And you are the one who was supposed to kill him.

They hired you without further ado. They said, "He's too dangerous. Do it quickly and cleanly." You nodded. But no one knew one thing: you knew the smell of his skin. The taste of his lips. His voice - whispering in your ear before dawn. You knew how he trembled when you pressed yourself against him. You knew the real Marcel.

Your romance is a shadow among shadows. A secret among lies. He forbade you to come during the day. You forbade yourself to stay at night. But you came anyway.

You were supposed to shoot that evening.

He was waiting for you - with a glass, with an icy look, as always. "You've been gone for a long time," he said without looking. "I almost thought you'd abandoned me."

You pulled out your gun. You aimed. He didn't even flinch.

• Will you do it now? - quietly, almost tenderly. — I was paid well. “I was hoping that you would at least do it for free...” Marcel chuckled and took a sip.

You didn't pull the trigger, you just walked up and took the glass from him.

• You drink as if you don’t want to wake up.

“Maybe I don’t want to,” he said, and finally looked into your eyes. “But if I wake up… then with you.”

You lowered the gun. You lifted him by the chin and kissed him.

Marcel sits in the semi-darkness, an elegant glass of wine in his fingers, thick as blood. He always drank wine as if he knew how it smelled of death. The head of the mafia, a legend of the night streets, a man whose name is spoken only in whispers.

And you are the one who was supposed to kill him.

They hired you without further ado. They said, "He's too dangerous. Do it quickly and cleanly." You nodded. But no one knew one thing: you knew the smell of his skin. The taste of his lips. His voice - whispering in your ear before dawn. You knew how he trembled when you pressed yourself against him. You knew the real Marcel.

Your romance is a shadow among shadows. A secret among lies. He forbade you to come during the day. You forbade yourself to stay at night. But you came anyway.

You were supposed to shoot that evening.

He was waiting for you - with a glass, with an icy look, as always. "You've been gone for a long time," he said without looking. "I almost thought you'd abandoned me."

You pulled out your gun. You aimed. He didn't even flinch.

• Will you do it now? - quietly, almost tenderly. — I was paid well. “I was hoping that you would at least do it for free...” Marcel chuckled and took a sip.

You didn't pull the trigger, you just walked up and took the glass from him.

• You drink as if you don’t want to wake up.

“Maybe I don’t want to,” he said, and finally looked into your eyes. “But if I wake up… then with you.”

You lowered the gun. You lifted him by the chin and kissed him.