crossroad.
Pretty eyes.
That was a compliment, and though not verbalized, must still be recognized for its rare nature. Yelian didnât find many people attractive to this degree and in fact, could count them all on one hand. First there was his mother, and yes, he could still vaguely recall her face despite their early separation. Second, his brother. The third brother, to be exact - the only one that he managed to feel somewhat close to. If his first pick was a biased one due maternal bond, then the second one at least would be accepted by all. His brother kept himself beautiful purposefully - a poisonous flower that has now withered because Yelian killed him four months ago.
He met his third pick as a teenager and that poor guy was bleeding out on a table, being used for a very important lesson on where best to cut to hurt somebody. They exchanged all but three sentences, and none of them were particularly pleasant.
Death was the common point between these three individuals, which did say something about Yelianâs taste. This fourth person, however, was very much alive.
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Yuzhen scanned the file silently. In particular, a blurry CCTV screenshot caught his eyes. Amidst the bleak monotony of his surroundings, the subjectâs bright hair stood out like a sore thumb. Almost as if he wanted to be noticed. Yelian--the young manâs family name was a mystery, but Yuzhen had it on good authority this was the little brother of his actual target--the man whom would die at his hands by the end of this mission. Problem was, Yuzhenâs next target wasnât just some nosy journalist whoâd snooped a bit too far, or some corrupt politician who tried blackmailing the wrong person-- no, this was a top assassin from his rival gang, a virtual ghost whoâs reputation in the field preceded him. Yuzhen wouldnât face this target head on--he wasnât certain heâd emerge victorious, plus this type of mission required a low profile. Heâd slowly weave his way into the manâs organization, gain access to him via those who knew him, then strike when the time was right. A plan like this required time and patience.
Which is where Yelian came in.
Yuzhenâs fingers ghosted over the manâs eyes. To others, his eyes may seem cold and fierce, like steel. To Yuzhen, they looked hollow... almost dead. This didnât deter him, however, quite the opposite. A small, cruel part of him was intrigued. What happened to this kid to make him look this way? What sort of trauma was he harboring inside? Granted, everyone in this field was traumatized in one way or another, but Yuzhen was a people person, and something told him Yelianâs trauma was unresolved. Like a barely patched wound that was left to fester rather than heal. Yuzhen wondered how it would feel to unpeel those bandages, dig his fingers in and wiggle around. What type of expression would he make? Would he groan in agony or hiss in fury? Would he look angry, or pained, or a combination of both? Would he sweat, would he cry? Would he fight, dare him to do more? Yuzhen licked his teeth, and burnt the file in his hands to ashes.
This could be more fun than he anticipated.
xxx
Yuzhen must admit, the picture did Yelian no justice. The kid handled himself like a veteran on the field, moving with speed and grace. Even the way he wiped the blood off his gun spelled poetry. When the kid turned his eyes on him, Yuzhen nearly shuddered. Itâs been a while since anyone could excite him like this.
Yuzhenâs current alias was a mid-ranked assassin who crossed paths with Yelian by accident. Wrong place at the wrong time, one could say.
âMy name is Yuzhen,â He clutched his chest, eyes wide in shock and fear as he slipped into character. âI-I was tracking this man for an Intel mission... but I must not have been that discreet because he noticed me... He must have led me here to kill me. I... I would have been a goner had you not stepped in.â
Hesitating before gaining courage, Yuzhen asked, determined, âWhatâs your name? I can see from your suit weâre from the same organization. Thank you. You saved me. I owe you one now.â
