@fadingalphas
Damian & Hunter Inspired by this plot: combination of neighbors + assassins but working for different sides. they become friends until ’wait i thought i saw you on that rooftop/in that alley’ and that explains all the constant repairs being made to our building. we can’t acknowledge this about each other without having to do something about it so now we’re going to try and keep being friends. but why are we trying to give each other tips on how to survive this is getting complicated.
Damian stopped pacing at 3 A.M. He couldn't believe that he was the one, the person he was supposed to catch, the one who had been committing all of those crimes. The cop can still remember the way his face came into light, the moment they made eye contact, the surprise freezing him long enough for him to escape, not that he would've been able to detain him, not at that moment, on that roof. God, why did he have to be so nice, so handsome? he thought, starting to realize that maybe he was just the best neighbor he had ever had because he knew he was after him, after all, his face was always in view, he never hid it, not like the other.
The pacing only stopped because of a noise outside of his apartment, the sound of his neighbor opening his door. Hunter's apartment. Usually, he would've stopped and think about his next movement, but he had to know, he needed something to confirm that the man that lived across the hall, the one he had been crushing on for a while was the same one he saw moments ago up on that roof, so after having his hand crutching the door handle for a few seconds he twisted it, barely opening the door to be able to peak through it, his eyes searching for Hunter.
He found him in front of his own door, across the hall, Damian had the intention to explore his body with his eyes, to search for the black clothes he remembers so well, for a bag, gun or something incriminating, but instead, he stared at his face, exploring his features, the shape of his lips, the roughness of his beard, locking on his eyes, searching for an ounce of guilt or innocence, hoping to find more of the later. He wasn't ready to live in a world where the one he was after had been in front of him all this time.
