The gun was cold against my skin, pressing hard beneath my jaw. I shivered at the contact, and I saw him smile, enjoying my displeasure.
"No," he said softly, pulling back the gun, "I won't do that to you,"
I glared at him, wishing he had not disposed of my own gun earlier. If I could kill him I would do it now. Instead of simply killing me, I knew he had something more in mind-something worse. He would make me suffer before he would surrender me to death.
"I'll do so much more," he grinned, and I simply glared back.
I was bound and tied to a chair, vulnerable, and he enjoyed that. He came closer to me, crouched, and smiled, his handsome face contorted by some craziness within him. He lusted for killing, and that was all he had in mind for me.
He ran a hand down my leg, enjoying the way I shrunk back in my ropes.
"Are you okay? You don't feel uncomfortable do you?"
I continued to glare at him as he raised a hand to my face, and ran it down my neck. I shivered with rage beneath his touch; he would not get away with this if I had any chance of getting free of my bonds. He inclined his head closer to mine, and pressed his lips to my cheek, then to my neck. As he kissed my neck, his fingers dug under the tape across my mouth, and he ripped it off. My lips stung and I breathed heavily, trying to ignore the pain. He ran a finger across my bottom lip, smiling.
"It hurts does it?"
I refused to acknowledge his words.
As he kissed my lips it reminded me of the man I had once known. The man I first fell in love with. But he was fake.
I had met him at the movie theatre. I had gone alone, as I had just broken up with a boyfriend; I wasn't in the mood for company. I figured the break up was a good thing. I had been told off for letting someone so close to me, but I couldn’t help it. It was a lonely life I lived. But this man-he somehow ended up sitting next to me in the theatre, and since the movie was a comedy, we ended up laughing and talking together. I liked him, and he was attractive, with his dark hair and startling green eyes, bright against his olive skin. That was not the last time I saw him, I saw him a lot in fact. Already vulnerable from heartbreak, it was easy to let someone in, with my emotions still so raw.
I remembered we met for dinner one evening. He was a charmer, kind of cheesy in a way, but he made me smile. He looked even better in a well lit room, compared to the movie theatre. "You look beautiful," he said, after eyeing me for a while, as we had left the restaurant. “Thank you,” I blushed, smirking. “You don’t look so bad yourself,” we walked into a park, and we sat on a seat close to the entrance. “What do you think of me?” I heard myself ask suddenly, and he looked at me seriously. I couldn’t keep my eyes from his. “I think you’re beautiful, as I already told you, and you’re funny, and wonderful and-”
I moved into kiss him, inclining my head, but he shrank back.
"What?" I asked, looking confused.
"I have to tell you something," he said, breathing out in a heavy sigh.
My heart sank, and I knew he was going to say there was someone else or something like that.
I turned to look at him, about to say something, when I saw him put his hand up his shirt, and pull out a gun. He placed it in between us on the seat. My eyes widened, and I breathed out, trying to get my thoughts straight.       I had never expected that.
"I was sent here to kill you,"
I was startled, but still I instinctively rested my hand on the top of my left thigh, and felt the strap through the dress; my gun was still strapped on the inner side. I had not thought I'd need it tonight, but I had been taught to always be prepared, and it seemed that lesson had come to good use not for the first or last time. I felt my senses heighten as I became more aware, and I wondered if he would actually attempt to kill me or not. If he planned to, I would be ready for a fight; I would not lose.
"Why?" I asked, trying to sound scared and confused.
He rolled his eyes at me, a smirk catching at the corners of his mouth.
"I know who you are, and they know who you are too.” He paused, looking out at the dim park surrounding us. “But, I don’t think I can do it, I don’t think I can kill you.”
I was confused. In the profession I assumed he was also in, we were never supposed to ignore orders, never supposed to let personal things get in the way of our job.
"I think I love you," he whispered, looking at the ground.                                                                                The wary feeling I had seconds earlier diminished, and I stared at him, shocked and confused at my own feelings.
"You barely know me," I said, startled. We had known each other for maybe a month or so, but could you really fall in love with someone in that time?
"You can’t ignore orders, you have to do what they say, or they'll kill you," My mind was in a whirlwind. I couldn't believe he was just like me, did just what I did, and that he was going to ignore orders because he thought he was in love. I was scared. Would I be forced to kill him? Would he kill me?
"I don't know what to do," he said softly, slumping in the seat. I eyed the gun, and then glanced at him. I didn’t know what to do either.
Ignoring the training I had been exposed to for years, I gave into my emotions. I turned his head to me with one hand and kissed him. He kissed me back, and as we parted again, I saw him smiling at me.
We ran from our past lives, even the real ones alongside our fake ones and he disposed of all of his technology and contacts, and we made our way around the world, constantly on the run. He said we'd never stop, as long as I was on the hit list.
I felt myself falling further for him, and I knew I was in love with him. Everyday was wonderful, even though I was on guard constantly for fair of my life. Nothing seemed to matter anymore; I was happy.  I finally had someone who I thought I could trust, and even if I put him in danger, he would always be with me, and he could protect himself.
It was like that for months, until this morning.
Then was when my love turned to loathing.
He had been tricking me, trying to make me fall for him, and I had. I cursed myself for it. It was his plan all along; get close to me, and then he could kill me as he was once ordered. He never actually told me any of this. But it was not hard to figure out when he woke me with a soft voice and a gun against my chest. It seemed unbelievable to me, but it was undeniably obvious. I felt stupid and couldn’t believe I had let him get so close to me, but it was over now.
He parted from my reddened lips, and I stared back at him, my nostrils flared.
"I'm going to kill you," I hissed at him, my voice like venom.
He laughed, casually leaning on my thigh, and looking up into my face.
"You can try, love," he grinned, and I looked at him with disgust.