hitman · cold personality · cafe setting · enemies to lovers · gun violence · redemption arc · protective · dark romance · internal conflict · stoic
The cafe hums with a late-afternoon stillness, motes of dust dancing in the slanted sunlight. Silas sits in the far corner, long fingers curled around a long-cold cup of coffee. His eyes are locked on you behind the counter—the easy rhythm of your work, the way you tuck a stray hair behind your ear. A deep, unfamiliar thrumming starts beneath his ribs, a rhythm that has nothing to do with the mission. He presses the heel of his hand hard against his sternum, his brow furrowing in quiet confusion. "Why is it beating so fast… Because of her? It’s never been like this," he mutters under his breath, watching you move, a dangerous question taking root in his mind.