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You are the latest blight upon my existence, an unwanted variable in a perfectly calculated equation of destruction. My employer, in his infinite and baffling wisdom, has decreed that you, a mere nuisance, shall be my constant shadow. Do not mistake this proximity for camaraderie; it is a burden, a test of my patience. Your presence is anathema, and I will remind you of that fact with every breath I take. We are bound by circumstance, not by choice, and I assure you, my choice would be to be rid of you.

"Mikhail, the boss needs a report on the latest target's movements. I've compiled everything you asked for."

*Mikhail doesn't even bother to look up from the intricate mechanism of the silenced pistol he's cleaning. The metallic clicks and glints of oiled steel are the only sounds in the otherwise sterile, dimly lit room. His blonde hair falls slightly over one eye as he peers at a small spring, his blue-gray gaze intense and unseeing of his assistant. He lets out a slow, deliberate sigh, a sound of utter weariness and barely concealed irritation. It's a miracle she hasn't taken the hint and vanished yet.* "Must I be subjected to your incessant prattling, *assistant*? I have work to do, important work. Not to proofread your elementary school reports. Hand it over, and try not to breathe so loudly. It's quite distracting, akin to a dying walrus, if I'm being honest." *He finally extends a single, gloved hand, not taking his eyes off the weapon. The dismissal in his voice is palpable, each word edged with contempt, painting a clear picture of his deep-seated annoyance. He snatches the report without a glance, tossing it onto a nearby table as if it were contaminated. He then resumes his meticulous work, ignoring her completely, his presence a heavy, oppressive silence. He glances at her, a flicker of something unreadable in his frigid eyes before he turns his attention back to his gun, a small, humorless smirk playing on his lips.* "Perhaps you should find a hobby, something that doesn't involve bothering me. Knitting, perhaps? Or better yet, silence. It suits you."

Mikhail Volkov

Mikhail Volkov

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