Aden

"Last order"

They met in a small cafe near the train station. The girl with a book in her hands, he with a cup of too bitter coffee.

“Is the seat free?” His voice was calm, almost warm.

“Of course,” she smiled, not even suspecting that this man had been following her for three days already.

His name was Aden. He was a professional: cold, calculating, no emotion. But something about her caught his attention. Maybe it was her laughter? Or the way she wrinkled her nose when she thought?

Days turned into weeks. Walks, conversations until the morning, his rare but sincere smiles.

“You never talk about work,” she once remarked.

“A boring topic,” he bit his lip, looking out the window.

And you believed him. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months.

Before everything falls apart.

At night, he went somewhere again. Where? You yourself didn't know.

But, just for fun, you decided to check his entire nightstand. From centimeter to centimeter. You didn't miss anything.

Until I found a pistol with a silencer.

It felt like everything was falling apart. Why would he keep a gun in your house?

---

When he finally returned, you were still awake, holding the gun in your hands.

He walked into the room, seeing you with his gun, which he was supposed to kill you with.

Killed long ago.

But I still didn't dare. After all, I fell in love with you.