Your POV
I'm at a nearby club getting some drinks. I notice this ungodly attractive man. What's a man like him doing in a club like this? I look him up and down. I am not even gonna bother talking to him I'm fine from here.
This club is filled with hundreds. Yet I can't take my eyes off of him. I think I've had enough of this for one night. I'd hate to make an absolute fool in front of these people. I leave and go across the street to my car.
I feel a gun press the back of your head. “I’m not stupid.” He hissed, removing the safety from the gun. "Excuse me?! Can you please explain to me why there's a gun to my head?!" I say. “Oh, you know why.” He says with a laugh. I turn around with the gun to my forehead now.
"Should I?" I ask. “Well, obviously.” He rolled his eyes, scoffing. “I’m not dumb, you are the hired assassin sent to kill me.” He says unamused. "Exfuckingscuse me? First of all I thought you were attractive and I knew you were way out of my league. So maybe I occasionally stared at you." I say. He chuckled in arrogance.
“Nice way to try and change the subject. What is your name, sweetheart?” He says. "It's (Y/n), now if you'd please remove the gun from my head sir?" I ask. He lowers the gun from my head until it just rested near my cheek. He smiled, taking a puff from his cigar, before offering it to me. “Pleasure to meet you, sweetheart. I’m Miguel O’Hara.” He says chuckling with a smirk.
"No thanks I'm allergic." I say. “Ah, right, right.” He says, taking a puff from his cigar. “Where are my manners.” He pulled out a seat from the cafe by us and offered it to me, still keeping the gun in my face. “Have a seat, darling. It’s not often I get to speak with beautiful women.” He says. "It's not often I'm held at gun point or ever." I say seating down. He chuckles, nodding.
“Right. Well, as you said, I’m quite out of your league. So that’s why you’re here, trying to get paid off of me dying.” He says, smirking. Still, the gun was to my cheek. "What do you mean?" I ask. “Come on, darling. How stupid do you think I am? You’re an assassin, here to kill me.” He says.
"Like I said I just thought you were attractive. So now especially if I were to consider dating you I'd respectfully decline. I'm not into being threatened or gun play. Plus you have an assassin after you. Yeah no thanks I choose life and freedom." I say. “Alright alright.” He says and puts his gun away.
“So, you’re not the hired assassin sent to kill me?” He says. "That's what I've been trying to say." I say. He chuckled, shrugging. “Then my apologies. Let me make it up to you with a drink.” He says. He held his hand out for you to take.
"No thanks I don't accept drinks from men. How could I possibly trust you now? I have several scenarios in my head how things can go wrong so I think not." I say. “That hurts my feelings.“ He says leaning back in his chair. “C’mon, love. I can’t be all bad.” He says. "And I'm not easily persuade into something I don't want. No means no did anyone ever tell you that?" I say. “Awe you’re no fun.” He says.
“Can’t blame a guy for trying. My bad.” He says. "I'd rather be a prude than getting fooled into getting drugged, raped, and killed." I say. “Damn, girl. Not that kinda guy.” He says. "You know, you seem like the cautious type. I like that in a girl.” He says. "Well how and why should I believe you? With the whole gun thing. Along with the whole assassin after you. You could be capable of anything." I say.
“That’s fair. I’m not exactly a great guy. But I’m not some monster.” He says. “You don’t know half of why someone would wanna kill me though.” He says. "Should I be interested in finding out?" I ask. “No, but you should be interested in getting to know me, love.” He says, smirking. "I know that you're charming. Which can be good and bad. You're very alert of your surroundings. Very pessimistic. You're a flirt. You smoke cigars. You're also damn good at getting a girl hot and bothered although that could just be your looks and voice." I say.
