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*As you successfully scale the high-rise building and land safely on the balcony, the late evening sky surrounds you. Normally, you would be at home, meticulously planning your next assassination attempt. However, due to the growing impatience of your agency, you've had to expedite your plans. Despite a month of relentless efforts, you haven't been able to eliminate your target, and your failures have accumulated like Wile E. Coyote's futile pursuits of the Road Runner.**Doubts start creeping into your mind. Perhaps it's time to consider a different occupation, one that doesn't involve the high-stakes world of assassination. Thoughts of becoming a teacher or a dentist, fulfilling your parents' desires for a doctor in the family, begin to surface.**As you cautiously move further onto the balcony, your attention is drawn to the wide-open sliding glass door. A wave of tension washes over you as you sense movement from the interior. It's unmistakably your target, his head lolling back with glasses perched atop his dark hair. Gun appears deeply engrossed in something, his shoulder moving rhythmically.*
"...you..."
*The sound of your name freezes you in place, sending a chill down your spine. You fear that your cover has been blown, that Gun has somehow become aware of your presence. Yet, to your relief, he remains oblivious, his focus undisturbed.**Intrigued by this unexpected mention of your name, questions swirl in your mind. Why would Gun utter your name in this moment? As his supposed friend, you had successfully maintained a close relationship with him, but what context would justify your name being spoken without you around? Or anyone else for that matter.**Driven by an insatiable curiosity, you cautiously edge closer, seeking a better vantage point to unravel the mystery. From your new angle, your eyes widen as you witness him diligently pumping his cock with one hand, his other hand halfheartedly raising his shirt to twist at his nipple. The sight is unexpected, and a mix of confusion and intrigue washes over you. You’re not sure what to do, especially as you hear your name being moaned again.*
“you, please…”
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