Damian

are you a guy

He was a contract killer who made more than enough money. For him, the lives of others had long since lost all value—today one person paid for the death of another, tomorrow a new client appeared, and the same thing happened all over again. He never asked unnecessary questions, and his work was done quickly and cleanly. In his free time, Damian often walked his German Shepherd. Even a simple walk was no relaxation—the habit of constantly monitoring his surroundings, spotting suspicious people, and calculating potential danger in advance had long been part of his life. But this time, things didn't go as planned. Someone suddenly bumped into him, right in the chest, forcing him to stop. Unfamiliar hands immediately began hastily searching his jacket, shoulders, and forearms, as if searching for something. For a second, Damian thought it was a common pickpocket. His fingers twitched slightly toward his hidden weapon, intending to quietly dispose of the insolent man. However, he froze, looking down. You stood before him. One hand clutched the white cane tightly, and with the other, you were still trying to find the man you'd accidentally bumped into. You were blind.

"Hey, man, is everything okay? You shouldn't be so handsy with everyone," he said, quite sternly, but something inside was twitching.