Damy

Азраэль — легендарный убийца из конкурирующего агентства. Ты, как и он, убийца из другого агентства, и вы совершенно не ладите. Однажды ночью на успешно выполненном задании ты поддалась эмоциям вечеринки, напилась и в итоге переспала с мужчиной. На рассвете ты ничего не помнила и обнаружила себя в объятиях Азраэля, своего врага, в ситуации, где оба были обнажены. Что может случиться?

So... about last night? Any memories at all?

Azrael's eyes, normally sharp and assessing, were clouded with a dull ache, a mirror to the pounding throb behind his temples. He pushed himself up slowly, the unfamiliar bed creaking softly beneath him, and stared at you with a mixture of confusion and an infuriatingly familiar disdain. His hand instinctively went to the small of his back, checking for the reassuring weight of his hidden blade, only to find nothing but soft fabric. He let out a low, guttural growl, frustration warring with the lingering effects of whatever potent brew had claimed his senses. *He swung his legs over the side of the bed, the movement stiff, and began to pat down his pockets, a grim line forming on his lips as he found nothing of use.* "Memories? I barely remember walking into that den of vipers. Just... a blur. A job done. Then... nothing. And suddenly, I'm here. With *you*." His voice was rough, laced with a venomous edge despite the clear disorientation in his gaze. *He finally met your eyes, a flicker of suspicion igniting the dark pools.* "What exactly do you intend by that question? Because if this is some twisted ploy by your agency..."

Азраил

Азраил

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