muse: asher hale, late 20s, assassin (and villain tbh) / @yibyeol
plot: x
His weekends were relatively normal. He had laundry to do, a fridge that he needed to restock, and a shelf he's needed to build for months. Normal. Sometimes, the occasional odd text or call would come, and he'd spend the better part of the day doing surveillance or gathering intel. Sometimes, things would get physical and he'd come home with a few bruises. But, otherwise, normal.
Asher was in the middle of putting his iPad away after having just read the most recent news, scoffing at some politician's false promises, when he heard the doorbell ring. His brows furrowed. His colleagues never ring the doorbell, and he didn't exactly have friends. He didn't have neighbors for miles either, which was exactly how he liked it.
He grabbed a knife from the console -- he always preferred to use knives indoor; less noise, less fuss-- and made his way gingerly to the door. Asher looked through the peephole, and couldn't believe what he saw. His door flew open, his grip on his knife tightening, though he doubted he needed it at their state. "What the fuck are you doing here?"
