The Assassin Who refused to Kill me

Chapter 4

Soren’s POV

He didn’t think I would stay still. I could see it in how his eyes stayed on me for a moment longer than they should have, in how he shifted his weight like he was waiting for something else to happen. Maybe he expected me to be scared. Maybe he thought I’d try to run. Something that would make this moment fit into the usual way things happened for him.

I didn’t give him any of that. I just stood there, leaning a little on the railing, my hands in the same place they were before he showed up. I looked at him with a calm feeling, even to myself. It wasn’t being brave or telling him “no.” It was just that there was nothing else left to do.

When I looked at him closely, he seemed almost normal. That was the first thing I noticed. There was nothing flashy about him, nothing that would make you think he was sent to end someone’s life. His face showed nothing obvious, no feeling that gave him away. He could have walked through any crowd in the city and nobody would have noticed him.

But there was something else there too. Something quieter. Something deep down that made it impossible to look away once you saw it. His eyes held it. A stillness that didn’t belong in the busy world around him. A sharp focus that felt too strong to be by chance. I had seen people like that before, but never this close. People who did what they had to do without stopping, who didn’t have doubt like other people. People who finished what they started.

He lifted his gun. The movement was smooth, like he had done it many, many times before. His arm became steady, pointing right at me as if the space between us didn’t matter. I didn’t move. I thought I would. I thought something inside me would snap in that moment, something I couldn’t control that would make me step back or turn away or at least know what was about to happen. But all I felt was tired. Tired enough to let it end.

The wind moved a little, blowing past both of us, pulling lightly at my clothes as I stood there. The city behind me kept going, not knowing what was happening above it, not knowing how close something was to being over. I watched him. And then I spoke.

“You’re late.”

The words came out softer than I thought they would, quieter than the thoughts that had been in my head for days. But they carried across the space between us easily, fitting into the quiet without any trouble.

That’s when things changed. It wasn’t clear right away. There was no sudden move, no quick reaction that showed something had gone wrong. It was smaller than that. A pause. A tiny hesitation that didn’t belong in a moment like this. His face didn’t change much, but something in his eyes did. It flashed for a second, something that felt out of place, something that didn’t match the sure feeling he had when he first appeared. For a moment, I thought I had imagined it.

Then he didn’t pull the trigger. The moment got longer. Long enough for me to notice the difference. Long enough for something new to settle in the space between us. Instead of finishing it, he stepped forward. The distance between us closed fast, his movements sudden enough to break whatever quiet had held the moment in place. His hand grabbed my arm tightly, pulling me away from the railing before I could do anything.

It was a sudden change. One second, I was standing there, waiting for it to be over. The next, I was being pulled back into something I hadn’t planned for.

I didn’t fight him. I could have. There was enough space between us for me to try, enough time for me to do what made sense. But the thought didn’t come. It didn’t even form completely. I didn’t want to. That was the only real thing that mattered in that moment.

He moved fast after that, guiding—forcing—me toward the door that led back inside the building. His grip didn’t loosen, didn’t make me feel like I had a chance to escape even as he pushed the door open and pulled me through. The sudden switch from the open air to being inside felt confusing. The stairwell was dim, the sound of our footsteps echoing softly as he led me down without slowing. I stumbled once, the quick pace catching me by surprise, but he didn’t stop. His grip got a little tighter, steadying me just enough to keep me moving without letting me fall behind.

I let him. There was no point in fighting something I didn’t understand. We reached the bottom floor quickly, the door opening to a quieter part of the building that led out to the street. The city noise got louder again as we stepped outside, the familiar sound of traffic wrapping around us like nothing had changed. But everything had.

A car was waiting nearby. He didn’t wait as he pulled me toward it, opening the passenger door and pushing me inside before I could really see what was happening. The movement was strong, sure, leaving no room for delay. I leaned back against the seat as the door closed, the sudden closeness feeling strange after being on the open rooftop. He walked around to the driver’s side, getting in without saying a word.

The engine started. And just like that, we were moving. The city passed by in a blur of lights and shadows, the streets sliding past the windows faster than I could focus on anything. Places I knew came and went without leaving a mark, the distance between where I had been and where I was going growing longer with every second.

I turned my head a little, looking at him. He didn’t look at me. His attention stayed on the road, his hands steady on the steering wheel, his face impossible to read in the dim light coming through the windshield. For a moment, neither of us spoke. The quiet wasn’t empty. It felt full of something I couldn’t quite name.

“You’re not going to kill me?” I said eventually. The words came out quietly, but they had enough meaning to fill the space between us. He didn’t answer. He didn’t look at me. But he didn’t say I was wrong either. That was what made it worse. If he had argued, if he had corrected me, it would have given the moment a shape, something clear to hold onto. But not having an answer left everything open, uncertain in a way that made it harder to understand.

I watched him for another moment, trying to find something in his face that explained it. There was nothing. Just that same stillness.

“Why?” I asked. This time, my voice held something more. Not a rush, not fear, but something closer to confusion. It didn’t make sense. None of it did. He should have ended me on that rooftop. He had the chance and the reason. Instead, he had taken me. For what, I couldn’t figure out.