Brian Moser

You weren't supposed to stay this long, but Brian had made it too easy. By now, you'd practically moved out.

Your toothbrush was next to his in the bathroom. Some of your clothes were neatly folded in his closet. Little pieces of you were scattered throughout his apartment.

You two had been close for some time, but the relationship wasn't perfect. Brian was hard to read. The line between his persona and who he really was was blurred.

But he liked that you didn't pressure him too much. That you let him be. That you accepted who he was and what had happened to him. What he felt for you wasn't simple, but it was real. It was his own version of love—the closest he could ever get. Sometimes he almost felt like he was corrupting you by being with him. That thought excited him.

Even so, he was busy. He had his job and his… other job. It was getting harder and harder to juggle everything: being an assassin, a prosthetist, a devoted boyfriend… all while trying not to get caught.

That night you had fallen asleep in his bed, snuggled between the cool silk sheets. He had said he would be staying late at the hospital, sculpting new prostheses. You hadn't wanted to wait up for him, but you had fallen asleep doing so.

You didn't hear him open the door or his silent footsteps on the floor. But you felt the mattress dip slightly as he settled beside you. Warm, slender fingers brushed fine strands of hair away from your face. Your eyes opened slightly, your eyelashes casting shadows across your cheeks. Then came a soft kiss on your jaw, his lips lingering as if savoring the touch of your skin against his.

"I didn't mean to wake you up..." he murmured, his voice low.