right... I've just kinda given up on the Christmas prompts.. dunno, haven't been feeling inspired to write for a long while- take this while I try to actually get something done. Inspired by another story btw- forgot where it was

and for some reason I really like this type of genre? Like idk why-

(ship alert: kinda Grian x Iskall incoming)

"You've got an assignment." Was all he heard as a folder slipped through the small gap in his office door. Iskall raised an eyebrow, picking up the black binder from the floor, flipping through the files, finding the newest one at the back.

Charles 'Grian' Collins:

Twenty-four years old. CEO and founder of globally known multi-million dollar retail company. Lives alone in London, England.

It was accompanied with a photo of him. It was obvious it was for some kind of formal event, as he was wearing a white dress shirt under a dark navy blue blazer, accompanied with a tie. His smile was subtle, but it was still picked up by the camera. He had his dirty blond hair somewhat styled, though chunks of it still poked up randomly. Iskall had to admit, the dude was pretty good looking. But like, not in a weird way or anything. I'm allowed to admit that he's handsome.

Through some careful investigation, and a bit of searching, he found where Grian lived; a large apartment block, situated in the more fancy part of London. The idea was simple. For Iskall to 'move in' next door to Grian, then befriend him, build some trust, get to know him, become accustomed with the way he lived... then he could strike. He had four months to do it. That was more than enough.

He had to kill him, with no questions, suspicions or loose ends.

Iskall was a hitman. Working for a secret- and illicit- organisation, the Black Pearl, he was hired by gangs, mobs, or like in this case, rivalling businesses, through the dark web. It wasn't the best, nor most honest job, but... he got paid, so what did it matter? He was already too far in to quit now.

So he found himself standing by the apartment block, marvelling at the beauty of it. The grounds were surrounded by a large, wrought iron fence, with a gate in the front. The gate was flanked either side by huge, old oak trees, flowers planted at the base of them. The building itself was made out of old fashioned, rosy red brick, with a dark tiled roof. A cobblestone path snaked along the ground.

He made his way into the building, seeing the lobby was just as beautiful as the outside. Whereas the exterior had taken a more classic approach, the interior was made with modern decor. Iskall rode the elevator up to the fifth floor, feeling anxiety bubble up as the silver doors closed. God, what was it with this time? It hadn't been so bad before.

He'd been in his temporary living place for about a few hours, when there was a knock at the door. Iskall moved to open it, seeing a rather familiar face there. Grian. What was he doing here? Well, stupid question, he lived next door, but still...

"Hello! I happened to notice you've just moved in, so I thought I'd just come over to say hi. We don't see a newcomer here very often." He smiled broadly. And that small action made Iskall's breath hitch in his throat. Goddamn- the camera had missed so much. Dimples appeared on his cheeks when he smiled, giving him the look of a much younger person. It didn't help that he was about a foot shorter than Iskall either. In his original photo, the photographers were too far away to see the light sprinkle of freckles on the bridge of his nose.

In simple words, he was beautiful.

"O-oh yeah, I'm just staying here for a couple months. You know.. for work and all that. You're... Grian, right? Founder of DIOLO?"

"Yeah. You're actually one of the only ones to recognise me since I came here." He shrugged. "But hey, I like the privacy. And you are?"

"Iskall. I uh- I work for a small company. It's based in Sweden. I have to travel a lot, and this time I ended up in England." Iskall awkwardly made up an excuse. Dammit. I'm bad at this. But Grian seemed to buy it, and invited Iskall into his apartment to talk.

As the days went on, Iskall grew accustomed to seeing Grian's warm smile every morning as he put off the task more and more. He'd actually become Grian's friend- something he was hoping would not happen- and now, the guilt weighed more and more each day that passed. And after a few months, those feelings grew, dangerously, proceeding way past the 'just friends' territory.

Until one uneventfully boring afternoon, his phone buzzed- with a text message.

Taking your sweet time, aren't you? Hurry up. Get it done by Sunday, no excuses.

That message alone made Iskall's heart skip a beat. He knew that disobeying the boss' orders would result in instant expulsion and most likely death. But he was torn between the cost of his own life.. or the life of the man he loved.

-

Iskall wiped his hands on his pant leg, trying to will down the incoming anxiety. He knocked on the door to Grian's apartment, taking a few deep breaths. He was met with a smiling face, as always, who invited him in.

"It's your last week here, right?" Grian asked, back turned, fiddling around with his cupboards. "These stupid things don't work- there we go." He pulled out a couple of wine glasses, setting them down on the table. "Just wait here, I'll go get some drinks." Iskall only nodded tensely, fingering the small zip-loc bag he had tucked away in his jacket.

They had been talking a while, before Grian stood up suddenly. "Oops. Forgot something, I'll be right back." When he turned away, Iskall pulled out the bag, filled with a couple packets of GHB powder. The amount given would be enough to kill- if not, at least cause permanent damage. Before Grian came back, he poured it into the drink, tucking the bag back into his jacket as Grian returned.

"Here we are. I got some food- hey, you alright? You're looking a bit pale." Grian asked, concerned.

"No no. I'm fine. Just tired."

"Oh. Alright then." Iskall watched as Grian unknowingly took a sip of the wine, fidgeting uncomfortably in his seat. His mouth felt as dry as a desert, but he couldn't stomach anything right now. He noticed the effects slowly taking place. Soon, Grian was complaining of tiredness, and slowly stood up, only to barely make it a few steps before stumbling, and collapsing on the floor.

Iskall stood up, looking over his friend's unconscious body. He rummaged through Grian's medicine cabinet, spilling a few things out, leaving a few on the floor... making it as convincing as possible. He then hesitated before walking out the door. He still had a chance: call authorities, get the Brit to emergency care.. he wasn't quite a goner. It was a strange feeling, knowing a life was on his hands- despite the fact he'd done it many times before. Iskall thought about it.

-

"And in unexpected circumstances, wealthy business owner- founder and CEO of DIOLO, Charles 'Grian' Collins has been found dead in his apartment in London. Authorities report it was a suicide- reportedly, he overdosed on sedative drugs..."

Iskall leaned back in his chair, biting his lip. He shut off the TV, not wanting to see any more. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision, he tried saying to himself. But deep down, he knew that wasn't the case. To him, it was the right decision then... but now? Maybe he really should've chosen differently.

Idk about this one. Not sure if I like the ending, but meh..