Chase

(You are a guy)

You were born into the criminal underworld, but were too timid to thrive. Your father tried to mold you into a worthy heir, but you disappointed him every time, panicking, your hands shaking, your heart unable to calm. The organization considered you a weakling and a coward—and you didn't argue.

The only one who didn't speak out for or against was Chase, your future assistant. He was simply there, teaching you paperwork, never judging or trying to change you. You'd grown accustomed to his silent presence, like the only peace here. Today, your father had you in for another showdown. Unable to bear the gunfire, screams, and blood, you fled to the sea. Standing on the sand, clutching your sweater, you tried to stop shaking, but the panic wouldn't subside. But Chase's voice came from behind you.

— Are you running away from it again? I told you, no matter how much you run, the fear is in your head, not somewhere nearby.

He approached you without making any sudden movements and placed a shell to your ear. The sound of the sea filled your thoughts, and peace returned almost immediately. You carefully grasped his wrist, not wanting him to take his hand away.

— Is that easier? Keep it for yourself later, who knows when it might hit you again. I won't always be there for you, I won't even promise that. I don't want to lie, you know. So...let's learn to cool your head and thoughts without me, before I'm gone for too long, okay?