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Method Acting

My first commissioned Uvogin fic! Long time coming :D Thank you to @contentobsessedhoe for giving me so much freedom to do something fun <3

Warnings: Uvogin x Reader, yandere... in a weird way, nsfw, non-con, female! reader, murder, descriptive and excessive violence

You stepped into the bathroom, closing the door with a soft click behind you, and met your own gaze in the mirror above the sink.

The bathroom wasn’t bad by local standards—functional, if a little sparse. It didn’t take much imagination to guess why; the man who lived here didn’t strike you as the type to make regular shopping trips. Whatever decoration existed had clearly come with the place: an old, yellowing lamp in the corner, cups and towels too neatly matched to have been bought separately.

The only signs that someone had actually lived here for a while were the small, unexpected items scattered around. Bath oil and shampoo, sure, but sewing thread? Multiple half-opened packages of ox gall soap? A faint smile tugged at your lips. You’d been recommended that exact brand once before, sold with the promise that nothing was better for getting blood out of fabric.

It wasn’t a space built for comfort. It felt more like a temporary stop, a rented room in a city that didn’t know what luxury was. The faux-marble sink was cold under your fingers as you gripped its edge, grounding yourself. The rest of the room seemed to fade into the background, leaving you alone with your reflection as you quietly took stock of the damage.

Your cheeks were flush with heat, your eyes red from crying and your hair frizzled from the way he’d pulled at it. Bruises were visible beneath the neckline of your shirt, the clothing itself spotted with miscellaneous fluids that had found their way on top of it. Compared to the way you’d looked at yourself this morning, smiling at a mirror and fixing your lip gloss, you looked like a mess. The effort you’d painstakingly taken to look good now serving as a reminder of what had happened since, what your body had been through.

Your hands found their way into your hair, forcefully pulling it back into a somewhat presentable style. There was too much sweat pooling in your palm, and no amount of petting the hairs back into position would fix it. You’d need to be home, in your own bathroom, with your own cold draft seeping through the tiles.

With a sigh, you turned on the faucet and washed your hands, the cold water bringing some clarity. You tried again, this time with damp fingers, and managed to tame your hair into a semblance of decency. But the small victory only drew more attention to the split in your lip and the strangely calm expression on your face. Despite everything, you looked... composed. Almost too composed.

Digging your fingers into your cheeks, you leaned closer to the mirror, inspecting the unsettling precision of your own expression. Your lips, parted just enough to let air through, barely quivered. They should tremble more—panic required that—but the control in them was unmistakable. Worse still, your breathing was too steady, too measured, when it should’ve been frantic, short gasps through your mouth because your nose couldn’t keep up.

Your eyes, though, were the real problem. Empty. But not the right kind of empty. They weren’t wide with fear or brimming with desperation. They just stared back, too calm, too detached. You looked blank, like you’d checked out completely, too numb to feel anything. It wasn’t right.

You frowned slightly.

This wasn’t what you needed.

You were trying to sell trauma, vulnerability, someone on the edge of breaking. But instead, you seemed like a ghost—too composed, too calculated, like the idea of struggle had already passed you by. You needed to look fragile, but there was still too much strength beneath the surface. That had to go.

There were a thousand different methods to change one’s own physical appearance, but often people’s thoughts would immediately go to wigs and make-up, even heavy SFX make-up. You’d ruled those out immediately—too obvious, too unreliable when the mask started to crack. No, it was easier to break your nose, bleach your hair, and train your muscles to convey helplessness. It just took practice.

Breaking your nose had changed the entire layout of your face, and though the area had been inflamed for weeks, this method, mixed with the hair dye, had brought you success, your own phone not even recognizing your face anymore.

You'd had no choice. Your previous ‘lover’ turned out to be far more dangerous than you'd thought. You’d killed the S-rank hunter while straddling him, choking him out with his own nen rope, but the entire experience had been ruined by a surprise wife coming home right as you were cleaning up his corpse. Despite the hunter’s betrayal to his wife, she’d put a bounty on your head. Disappearing became a matter of survival.

Sadly, you still struggled with the actual acting part, the intricacies of fake expressions failing you once you were in the scene. It was ironic, really. You’d changed everything about your face, your body language, but still found it difficult to play anyone other than yourself.

And so you stood in front of the mirror, looking like a fool just before an acting gig, smiling and crying to see if it would look passable in front of an audience. From trying to widen your eyes, to squinting until you could barely see, you tried out more different kinds of looks, disappointed when no matter what you did, your eyes remained beacons of inner peace. The tears helped some, but it just didn’t seem perfect.

While there’d been no suspicion just yet, it was stupid to just assume you were in the clear. You needed to keep this up until he did exactly what you wanted him to do. A chance like this one didn’t present itself often, certainly not with a man of his caliber.

More importantly, an unmarried man of his caliber.

Raising your brows and tensing the muscles just below your eyes, a glimmer of sadness seemed to find its way in your eyes and you nodded in satisfaction. That would work.

You finished up, pulling the neckline of your shirt over your shoulder so you’d show more skin, and crossed your hands in front of you, as if you wanted to protect yourself. Your reflection seemed utterly pathetic, destroyed emotionally by what had just happened. If you limped just slightly when returning to the bed, surely the sight would be immaculate, the perfect picture of a girl trudging back to a man out of fear for what would happen to her otherwise.

Stepping toward the toilet, you pulled on the toilet paper, tearing some off before throwing it in the pot, waiting three seconds before flushing. Another short wait in which you normally would’ve needed to pull up your underwear, another short wait in which you would need to gather the courage to return, and finally you could open the door.

Only for Uvogin to not even be in the bedroom.

Suppressing the urge to scoff in annoyance, you sat down on the edge of the bed, tapping your fingers against the ruffled sheets to gather your own thoughts. So far, things had been pretty straight forward, but if this was a kidnapping attempt, you’d need to get better at method acting, since this was taking too much conscious thought and effort.

What would she do...

She, who’d just been roaming outside of a Meteor City bar at night by pure chance and had been plucked out of the streets by a vagabond! She had no idea who he was, no idea she’d already been spotted by the barbaric man on multiple occasions. No idea of the love and obsession growing in the man, even as he had thrown her body on top of his bed and fucked-

Hmm. Some darker romance novels you’d been given a while back would’ve implied your body was now craving the man despite knowing how bad that was, the non consensual sex horrifying at first, but that depraved feeling only lasting until pleasure racked over your skin and he’d muttered some possessive nonsense. No such thing had happened, and you didn’t much believe that the victim you were playing would just get over it just like that.

So what would bother her now? The silence, surely, and presumably also the pain of the bruises he’d left behind, along with any other mark the act had left behind.

You nearly smiled in revelation.

Oh yeah, her underwear was completely filled with sperm! The remnants of his use of you had been leaking out onto your thighs for quite some time now. The girl would obviously want to get something fresh to wear, if only to get a little bit of comfort back on her body. Letting the remaining fluids of that man collect dust in her body was not something she would find agreeable.

Taking a deep breath, you very slowly walked around the bedroom, tentatively opening drawers.

Not being able to use nen was a bit annoying, but your hearing was still quite a lot better than the usual person, so even without any part of your energy scoping out his presence, you heard him approach about twenty seconds before he reached the bedroom you were in. This gave you some much needed time to prepare, pushing your nails into the skin around your thigh to give yourself enough pain to force some tears to drop.

He’d reached the door and opened it. When he clicked his tongue, you forced yourself to flinch, acting like you hadn’t realized his presence.

You turned to face him, nerves fluttering like a trapped bird. A tear slipped down your cheek. “I-I was just looking for a change of clothes.”

He blinked, his eyes sweeping over you. He was enormous, standing over eight feet tall with a muscular build that made his strength obvious. His dark skin and wild, unruly gray hair added to his imposing presence. While you’d been in the bathroom, it was clear he’d showered elsewhere—the towel draped around his neck and his damp hair made that obvious. He exuded a relaxed authority as he gestured toward the dresser. “Grab something from there,” he said, his voice deep and steady.

Fighting the urge to just strut over, you hesitated, glancing between him and the door. With a resigned sigh, you finally moved toward the dresser he’d pointed at. Uvogin didn’t budge as you approached, and as soon as you reached the dresser, you picked up the pace, rummaging through piles of unfolded clothes.

Most of it seemed like dirty laundry, with some stray pieces of clothing in the midst. You snatched a t-shirt that looked a size too big—you wanted to rock that off-shoulder look again—and some underwear, though it felt suspiciously like a bikini. It would have to do.

Suddenly, Uvogin appeared beside you, the heat from his recent shower radiating off him. He grabbed a pair of sweats and tossed them on top of your selection. Confusion washed over you.

Wasn’t it sexy to wander around in your underwear? Why was he insisting on covering you up? You’d even pulled the sides of your outfit higher to show off your figure, and he wanted to throw sweats over that?

“It’s gonna be cold outside like that.” He glanced away, only making eye contact when it felt right. You tried to piece together what he meant. Uvogin just shrugged, a smirk on his face. “Not gonna send you home naked, that’s just cruel.”

Home?

Home?!

Suppressing the complete confusion you felt at his words, you forced yourself to seem hopeful and glance toward the door. Taking a step back, you then quickly walked towards it, planning to change your clothes in the living room. Uvogin just let you walk past, waving your way condescendingly as you hurried out.

“Take care.” He said as you passed by.

This had to be a joke.

It had to be.

Surely, he was just waiting till you’d reached the front door to grab you again, pinning you against the wall and calling you an idiot for assuming you could leave so easily, you thought as you put on the sweats and shirt, stealing a few of the slippers from the hall as you prepared to leave. Your fingers grazed the door handle, but no looming death behind you, or wandering hands asking what you were even thinking.

You pulled the door handle down, and very slowly opened the door.

Nothing.

You stepped over into the hallway.

Nothing...

With a little more force than you could probably still call in character, you shut the door behind you, taking a deep breath to calm yourself down. With a heavy stride you walked through the horribly derelict wall-papered hall toward the elevator, your stride resounding rhythmically while your mind was constantly repeating all that had happened tonight to see where you’d gone wrong.

He’d liked you, a hundred percent, and he’d acted accordingly at first. The whole knocking you out, taking you to his loft and fucking you just to see what the fuss was about: you’d expected all that! The sex had been pretty good, though you’d been quite focused on saying and doing the right things, flinching and crying out at the right moments.

Had something happened while he showered? Had he realized something you said didn’t add up? Had post-nut clarity clued him in that you were faking it? This was so frustrating, you thought as you pressed the button to go to the base floor. The elevator was still around the first floor, so you even needed to wait a while. This wasn’t fair.

Now you either had to hope he’d find you at an appropriate time, or you had to just casually bump into him and act like it hadn’t been all planned. Again! You weren’t as convinced in your own acting abilities to pull off a complete ‘Oh my god! It’s you! How did you find me...again?!’.

The rational part of your mind just told you to give up and find someone else. But you didn’t want to switch targets, he was perfect. Cocky, immoral, way stronger than you. He was overwhelmingly masculine, in a way only an enhancer wearing a bear pelt could be, and it’d destroy your pride if he was okay with only having you one night. Like c’mon. That just hurts a girls’ feelings.

You wanted him to crave you, to drop all the bravado and beg you for your affection, and then you’d strangle him to death in his own bed, or stab him in his fucking bathroom and have him bleed out on that horrific fake marble. And you want him to be able to stop you, easily, but he just can’t make himself oppose you. That is what you want. And you won’t just let Uvogin, who is perfect perfect perfect for it, be another failure.

The elevator was around halfway, and it was at that time that you felt a weird feeling tingle your neck. Oh! Oh! He’d returned after all! He’d just needed some time to gather his feelings and recover from the sex. Now he’d drag you back and scold you for ever thinking you could leave his sight ever again, and you’d be back in business.

Slightly excited, you looked up, only for your expression to drop when you locked eyes with someone completely different. How you’d managed to convince yourself that their nen felt similar was almost impressive, given how weak this man clearly was. His bloodied, torn hazmat suit, common among Meteor City inhabitants, hung loosely on his frame, and his left Achilles tendon had clearly taken a serious hit, forcing him to lean heavily on a cane. You wondered if he used it to help him see as well; the coverings over his eyes were cracked and filthy.

Your utter disappointment was noticeably apparent on your face, as the man snickered and took another step forward. So he could still see. Hm. “Not who you were expecting?”

“I’ve had a long day.” You said, the first honest words of the day slipping from your lips. “I’m not in the mood.”

“I see. What a shame.” He tapped his cane on the floor twice, the sound echoing in the eerily empty hallway. You had noticed the bottom of the complex had been pretty busy, yet up here, it felt deserted. “I don’t remember seeing you before. Are you a new resident?”

“No.” He’d lost your interest, and you turned your gaze away, eager to just get home and take a long bath to wash away the sting of your mission’s failure. “I’m not.”

That seemed to surprise him, though he clearly didn’t believe you. You caught a mutter of disbelief escaping his lips. Your gaze flicked to the elevator indicator, now back at 3, and your shoulders sagged, lamenting its agonizingly slow ascent. This day was shaping up to be a total disaster.

He stepped closer, his presence dripping with an unsettling aura, and you felt a chill of killing intent wash over you, likely intended to intimidate. “I think you are a guest, aren’t you? I can’t let a young lady like you wander home alone at night. You know how these streets can be. Why don’t you come to my place for the night?”

You slowly turned your head toward him, your usual cold expression sliding back into place.

“Come over to your place, huh?” In another situation, you would have reached through the goggles, pushing the glass into his eyes and crushing his skull until it resembled pulp beneath your fingers. The thought almost made you smile, and you saw him tense up, sensing something was amiss. But Uvogin was probably skilled at detecting bloodlust, and you didn’t want to jeopardize your last chance to deceive him. “What an odd thing to say.”

Taking a deep breath, you forced yourself to slip back into the role, letting tears stream down your cheeks as your voice quivered.

The shift seemed to escalate the tension, the man taking a step back, his cane lifted slightly as if it could serve as a weapon at any moment. He wouldn’t dare attack first, you thought, blinking girlishly as you feigned panic. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about, and I can’t handle this right now. So—unless you can help me contact a doctor, I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Doctor?”

He froze, scanning the area as if sensing an ambush. Maybe he finally noticed your disheveled hair, mismatched clothing, and perfectly sad expression, and drew his own conclusions. Whether they were accurate, you doubted, but at least he seemed to back off, a mix of instinct and rationale pushing him to retreat. “I see. I’ll leave you be, then. My apologies.”

You smiled, the tears drying instantly as he turned to hurry away, eager to escape the encounter.

—

You were pissed.

The hotel door swung open hard as you stepped out into the cool night air. Frustration coursed through you, each step hitting the pavement with purpose. Uvogin’s words still burned in your chest, but the murmur of the street did nothing to settle the anger beneath your skin. Your footsteps echoed against the broken and filthy concrete, sharp and quick, as if moving faster could somehow erase the tension gnawing at you.

What now?

Stick around and hope he comes looking for you? Walk up to him and fake a pregnancy? Every option felt like garbage.

You wanted to tear your hair out, cursing yourself for running out of ideas. Why couldn’t you come up with something, anything that would work? What could pull him back to you? What would make you so essential to him that he’d start playing the kind of game you could actually win?

Sighing, you decided getting a drink was probably the only course of action that didn’t make you want to scream.

Then, you noticed it.

Across the street, under a flickering street lamp, someone stood watching. They weren’t hiding. A dark figure, hood pulled up, hands in their pockets, standing too still—focused on you. They’d been watching for a while, probably.

“Fuckin’ pervert.” You cussed beneath your breath.

You didn’t break stride. Your jaw clenched in further frustration, but you kept walking, acting as if you hadn’t seen them. The last thing you needed was a scene outside the hotel where Uvogin would notice and your chance would truly be ruined. It was way too soon to fight him, too soon to kill him. Not here. Your pace quickened—not from fear, but to avoid confrontation in plain sight.

A quick glance over your shoulder.

They were following.

You turned the corner, your pulse steady but your steps purposeful. The streets narrowed, the lights dimmed, but you didn’t slow down. The sound of footsteps behind you grew louder, keeping time with yours, mirroring your every move. They were testing you, pushing you to see how you’d react.

You ducked into an alley filled with broken furniture, your mind calculating.

The footsteps sped up, closing in. You weren’t looking for an audience. No attention, no distractions.

A few more turns.

This was about far enough.

Slipping into full Zetsu, you waited just behind a corner into a dead-end alley. Whoever was following you would probably assume you’d used Zetsu to move out of sight, making it hard for him to track. But that wasn’t the plan. You were doing this to ambush him. His aura was sloppy, undisciplined. Even if he sensed the trap, you weren’t too worried. He wasn’t much of a threat.

You hid behind the brick wall, silent, waiting for the exact moment. As soon as he rounded the corner, his face came into view. His eyes widened in shock, his breath catching when he saw you standing tall, just as he rushed past. The look of fear and surprise on his face was unmistakable—he hadn’t seen this coming. Perfect.

Kicking up, you managed to get a good blow into his guts, his entire body convulsing and going up into the air. When he hit the ground, you jumped forward and attempted to crush his head with your fist. Sadly, he’d just barely seen it coming and rolled away.

“Wait, wait, wait-” He started saying, holding up a hand in a sign of peace. “I’m not here to fight you.”

“Oh?” You said disinterestedly, continuing to walk towards him.

When you came close, he pulled out a gun out of his left pocket. For a second you were actually confused, not having seen a nen-user use a gun in ages. Rarely worth taking, since bullets tended not to get through nen barriers. Well, maybe there was something special about this one, conjured or something, so it would do well to be cautious.

With that in mind, you rushed forward and sliced the arm holding the gun off with your hand. Not feeling up to being neat at this point in time, you surged your hand into his ribcage and slashed him open in a couple more spots. He’d died by the first hit, but as you were demolishing his body to pulp, you felt some frustration leaving your body. You didn’t care what he’d been following you for, not today at least.

A new presence appeared just behind you.

Ah.

You’d fucked up.

“That’s a harsh way to treat someone.” A new wave of frustrated defeat washed over you at the sound of that baritone voice. “I just asked them to check if you got home alright.”

Is that why they were carrying a gun? you wanted to ask.

For a second, you wondered whether you should curl up within yourself and scream, to try and convince him you were the desperate and innocent woman he’d fucked. Then again, as you looked into his eyes and thought about how this entire scene looked, your entire hands buried within the chest of your pursuer just moments ago, you realized that no amount of method acting would save you from discovery.

Despite everything, you stayed quiet, staring blankly at Uvogin as he loomed over you, a wild grin splitting his face. You slowly wiped some of the gore off your hands on your newly acquired sweatpants.

“For my own curiosity,” your voice came out lower, steadier than the panic you’d faked earlier in the evening. Uvogin's eyes narrowed. It felt oddly satisfying. “When did you notice something was off?”

“Right away.” His bluntness hit your confidence hard. “I can sniff out liars like a dog. And let’s be real—what are the odds? I find a familiar face in a place like this, the face of a woman that’s been trailing me for what feels like weeks, wearing practically nothing, and acting all scared while throwing those cute eyes at me.” He chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that made you feel even smaller.

“Okay. Tone down the sex appeal and get better at tracking, I get it.” You motioned for him to continue. “Please go on, I want feedback.”

“Don’t tone down the sex appeal for my sake, I quite enjoyed it.”

“Hmm. Well, fuck, and here I was, putting in all that effort.”

“What effort? You just laid there the entire time.”

With your eyebrows practically disappearing into your hairline, you pointed at Uvogin, some stray intestine still clinging to your finger, your voice dripping with frustration. "Do you have any idea how embarrassing this entire ordeal was for me? I spent all day trying to seduce you, and what do I get? Sent home in sweats. That’s not just an insult—that’s a crime."

Uvogin barked out a laugh, the sound booming through the grimy, narrow street. The filthy city around you reeked of the garbage piled in the corners, but he seemed perfectly at ease. "You didn’t enjoy that? I thought it was hilarious."

"Yeah, real comedy gold," you shot back, exasperation leaking into your tone.

He waved away your comment. "But can we skip the jokes and get to the important part? Why were you trying to seduce me?"

You shrugged nonchalantly, playing it off while standing upright, the gore dripping from your hands creating a puddle next to your feet. "Weird hobby, I guess."

After saying it you realized that wasn’t even technically a lie.

Uvogin smirked, his massive frame casting a looming shadow over the filthy street. "While I love that you’ve been lying to me this whole time, it’s far too easy to catch you in one. You really ought to work on your technique."

Though that was also definitely true.

You kept your face neutral. "I already told you the truth," you said evenly, "but feel free to speculate. I’ve got nowhere to be."

He studied you for a moment, something dark and calculating flickering in his eyes. "I don’t like playing into other people’s hands," he said, his voice dipping lower, rougher. "Especially not people like you, who seem up to no good."

You raised a brow, taking a step closer, unfazed by his size or his words. "Oh? And yet, despite knowing I was, as you put it, up to no good, here we are. You still invited me up."

His grin returned, slow and wicked. "I’m still a man."

"So it seems," you replied, stepping even closer. The space between you was nearly gone, the air thick with tension. He didn’t move, but his shoulders tensed slightly, his eyes locked onto you with a predatory intensity. His fists clenched once, then relaxed, as if weighing his next move. "Well, so what’s going to happen now?"

With a swift, almost careless movement, Uvogin grabbed you and slammed you against the brick wall, pinning you there as if you weighed nothing. His hand wrapped around your waist, not gently, and the pressure of his grip made it clear this was no game to him anymore.

He leaned in, his breath hot against your face. "Hmm... Well, I don’t like being tricked, but I still haven’t really figured out what you’ve been tricking me for, so let’s talk about that first." His voice was low, rumbling with a dangerous amusement. "Does this have anythin’ to do with the troupe?"

You shook your head, struggling to find your breath under the weight of his hold. "No."

"Good." He tilted his head, eyes gleaming in the dim light. "Did you plant anything, or do anything to me?"

"No," you replied.

"Then what’s the point of all this, sweetheart?" His tone was almost mocking as he smiled, leaning even closer. "My stunning good looks and personality win you over?"

You glared at him, refusing to back down. "No."

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "Why is that the one that sounds most like a lie?" His laughter echoed down the alley, making your stomach twist. "Really? You had a little crush and thought I’d be more into you if you acted all pathetic?"

Your face burned with embarrassment, the heat creeping up your neck. "No!" you snapped, mortified by how defensive you sounded. "That’s not it at all!" You could feel the flush in your cheeks, and the way he looked at you—like he could see right through your denial—only made it worse. You struggled to keep eye contact, but felt looking away would be the same as agreeing with him.

Uvogin just grinned wider, his grip on you tightening as his amusement grew. The brick wall dug painfully into your back, but all you could focus on was the way his eyes locked onto yours, daring you to keep lying. His laughter might’ve been playful, but the danger underneath it was clear.

He came closer, his face close to yours, and inspected your face. “Isn’t it?”

Uvogin’s laughter finally subsided, though the sharp glint in his eyes remained. His grip on you loosened just enough for you to take a proper breath, but he didn’t let go, didn’t step back. The heat of his body still pressed you firmly against the brick wall. He tilted his head slightly, as if reconsidering something, a strange shift in his expression that was hard to read.

"You’re fun," he muttered, almost like he was talking to himself. His gaze raked over you with a mixture of curiosity and amusement, but there was something darker lingering there too, something far less playful. "And you’ve got guts. I like that."

You kept still, pulse racing, but you forced yourself not to show anything bubbling just under the surface. You weren’t about to let him see you squirm.

"I’m gonna take you with me," he said suddenly, voice casual as if he hadn’t just clearly been deliberating whether or not to kill you. He stepped back, giving you some room, though not enough for you to feel like you had a choice in the matter. You could see that if you made a wrong move here, he’d still kill you on the spot.

"Where?" you asked, already knowing the answer.

He grinned again, the smile cutting across his face like a weapon. "Back to the hotel. I’m not done with you yet."

You hesitated, but he turned his back on you as if the decision was already made. He started walking away, and with a quick glance back over his shoulder, he added, "Come on. Or do I need to carry you?"

You stayed rooted to the spot for a moment, pretending like you were weighing your options.

He huffed in amusement, clearly able to tell that you were fully intending to come. After wiping the grime off your palms, you hurried after him. You caught up, though he didn’t slow down for you, and you walked side by side, the alley fading behind you as you returned to familiar territory.

"Why bring me with you?" you asked, hoping to glean something, anything, about his motives. His response came without hesitation.

"Because you’re up to something." His eyes flicked toward you briefly, the amusement never quite leaving his face. "And I don’t like leaving loose ends."

That sent a shiver down your spine. "So I’m just a loose end?"

"Maybe," he said with a shrug. "Maybe something else. Guess we’ll find out."

You reached the hotel, the towering building a stark contrast to the crumbling streets surrounding it. He pushed open the doors, barely acknowledging the receptionist, who flinched at the sight of him.

As you stepped inside, the weight of the decision pressed on you. You were in deep now. He led you to the elevator, silent for a moment before glancing at you once more, his smile creeping back into place. It was a menacing sight, and you felt all the more excited for it.

"You wanted to get my attention, right? Well, now you’ve got it. Let’s see what you do with it."

The elevator doors closed, and for the first time that night, you truly felt like you were back on track. There was no turning back now. But if there was one thing you knew, it was that you'd never back down from a challenge, certainly not one you wanted to win so badly.

You would kill him.

And he’d beg you to do it.

"Let’s see," you replied, meeting his gaze with steady resolve and a very genuine smile.

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