Mr & Mr Hitman

Actions before Words

He felt the light breeze of the early morning hit against his face, shivering as he limped his way back home. It's not like he never got hurt before, so Cameron found it funny how Matthew didn't have any idea of how to fight.

He sniffled, feeling his nose burn because of the blow he received. If his victim didn't clutch at his hair so much, his plan would have gone more smoothly.

Originally, buying a coffee with a slight bit of sedatives in it while he flirted with Matt, under the disguise of what society refers to as 'woman', was his plan so that he could attack him when they arrived at his place.

But as Matt couldn't hold his excitement, he jumped on Cameron upon opening his front door, kissing the hitman profusely. As a result of his violent behavior, the assassin's fake hair let go, engaging both the males into a fight.

"I should let it grow," Cam whispered, glancing at his duffel bag that contained all of his materials.

He sighed when he arrived at his apartment. Looking up to the building, he held his side as it slightly burned, the man already picturing the blues forming under his clothes. But now there was a real challenge awaiting him.

Those fucking stairs.

Slowly yet carefully making his way up, he stopped in front of Samuel's flat. He stared at the worn-out wooden door that had a little bell hung onto it.

Gawking at the shiny bronze object in front of him, he sighed. "Why did I let my mouth run that much yesterday?"

I was drunk, I'm not denying that. But I wasn't completely gone either.

The sober part of my mind still wanted to get all of those painful memories off of my chest.

He sighed.

An idiot guy who jokes about nearly everything he can.

"Maybe he isn't that bad?", he whispered to himself while he traced the outline of the bell with his fingers, the coldness of the metal bringing him back to reality.

He took a step back and the moment his foot stepped on the first bottom stair, Samuel's door flung open.

Cameron turned with wide eyes to face the main character with a broom, still in his pajamas.

"Fucking hell, C," Samuel put down the sweeper, running a hand through his hair. "I saw a shadow on the ground under the door and I thought someone was coming for my life-"

He paused, his brain freezing for a second.

The guy I may or may not have feelings for is in front of me.

He averted his eyes, looking for his words.

The embarrassment, or maybe 'shyness' he felt made him think of a high school student confessing their love, and this thought put him on edge even more.

"You good?", Cameron inquired, one of his eyebrows raised. He was starting to feel the pain in his abdomen more.

"Yes. What makes you think I'm not-", Sam abruptly stopped when he caught a drop of blood drip from Cameron's nose, causing the shorter man to gasp at the sudden hot trickle to his lip.

He grasped the man's wrist and pulled him inside, kicking his door close before he pinned him against it. There was no time for reaction, only actions.

He aggressively cupped the other assassin's chin and lifted it, inspecting his face closer. "Why is your nose bleeding?"

This feeling was foreign to Samuel, just like any other emotions he gradually developed for Cameron, but this one, this one was more complex.

This one was more toxic.

And its toxicity would lead to deaths.

"Maybe because of the sun?", Cameron furrowed his eyebrows, gawking into the taller man's eyes, heat rising to his face, and at this exact moment, he didn't know whether it was embarrassment, awkwardness, or the fact that he fought earlier.

Yeah, you think I'm an idiot.

"Your mouth is too pretty to be spouting lies," Samuel stared into his orbs.

Cameron shivered at the glare he received, feeling like needles were pricking him, obviously intimidated by those coffee-colored eyes looking down at him.

"Whatever," Cameron freed himself from Sam's grip. "We both know our jobs have risks," he rubbed his wrists, relieved but missing the heat of another person's touch.

"Well then, I guess your reputation as Vixen is overestimated," the protagonist spat.

The shorter man's face dropped, dragging Sam back to reality.

Wait. Why am I getting so angry?

"Can I go now-" Cameron tried to escape, his fingers fiddling the ends of his sleeves.

"Yeah sure. I'm sorry, I don't know what happened to me there," Samuel nervously chuckled, "Maybe I'm still drunk from yesterday," he tried to light the mood up, but they both knew that his attempt was in vain.

"No worries..", the deuteragonist gulped slowly retreating out after he opened the door.

With Cameron gone, Sam slid down to the floor. "What the hell?", he cupped his face in his palms, regretting his choice in his contribution of spoiling their connection. What he hated the most was the scared and heart pricked face Cameron made.

It was a face he hated.

He also had visible discomfort in his eyes, and he was flinching at every movement Sam was making.

Maybe I should've taken care of him.

Leisurely making his way to his flat, Cameron stroked his wrist, once again, still feeling the warmth and force of the bigger hands that trapped him earlier.

Those intruding brown eyes that froze his blood and the frown on his concentrated face that made him tremble seemed to stay on his mind.

No way.