Assassins in love

Rooftop

All it took was one move.

One stab of my knife and he was on the floor.

Easy.

I've done it a thousand times.

But It feels different this time and not in a good way. It doesn't feel as good. Every time I kill someone I get this rush. A feeling I can't even explain, a mix of adrenaline and contentness.

The rush only comes when I've killed someone bad. That's what I do, I kill the bad ones. I get told who to kill and that's that.

But this feels different the rush isn't there, I wait a few beats, the wind blowing fast at this height. Why did he come up to a random buildings rooftop, business men are weird.

I wait a few more beats the rush still doesn't come. Did I get the wrong guy?

No I couldn't have, I always do a thorough check for weeks. Study them, who they are, their family's if they have one that is, what they do. I learn them, their habits and routines. I make sure they are bad people mainly. Am I wrong? Did I kill an innocent man?

No, no. This is definitely the right guy. The tattoos on his arms match the ones in the folder I was given.

Why do i feel so weird?

Ugh whatever I did it, it's done.

As long as he's dead I get paid.

I wonder what I'll buy, food first properly.

I am starving and my stomach making noises proves it.

I'm also sweating balls, so I take my mask off. I don't even question wether is safe or not I'm that fucking hot.

I pull my knife, out of the guys torso and blood rushes out. I wipe my knife on his suit jacket and put it back in my thigh strap.

Why do I still feel weird? I try to shake it off.

No it's fine I'm fine. I really need to stop with the inner thoughts they betray me every damn time.

I get up from kneeling down, and turn around to leave, but I'm stopped in my tracks by a figure, coming out from the doorway.

A tall ish man standing staring at me with an expression less stare. He has an eye patch covering his left eye. He has on black trousers a black jumper and a black trench coat looking thing. His hands are In is coat pockets, and why the fuck is he staring at me like that. Do you think it's too late to put my mask back on. Fuck properly.

I don't say anything, I never speak first unless there's a purpose or if I care about them that's when you know you're in my good books. It takes me five minutes apon meeting someone to decide whether I like them or not. It's been 30 seconds and I don't like him.

He finally says something after what feels like hours "That was pretty impressive".

What was impressive? Was he watching me this whole time, I was so careful making sure no one followed me here. I always am.

"How long have you been standing there?" I question him. My hand trembling.

"Long enough to see the whole thing" he says it so casually, who the fuck is this man.

Whoa wait what did he say? Fuck, that's not good. I don't get caught I can't it's like actually in my job description.

I think I forgot how to breathe.

Okay calm the fuck down. He's not that big I could kill him if it's absolutely necessary.

"What's it to you anyway, you could just walk away and forgot you saw anything" I try to say calmly.