At the Grave

Nico stood at the edge of the cemetery, the wind whipping through the rows of gravestones, carrying the scent of damp earth and freshly fallen leaves. He had always hated coming here. The silence, the weight of loss—it was a place filled with too many memories, most of them things he tried to bury. But today, he couldn't stay away.

His feet moved automatically, tracing the familiar path to the grave he had visited countless times before. It was a small, unmarked stone, weathered by years of neglect. He had never been one for elaborate memorials. His brother wouldn't have wanted that.

As he reached the grave, Nico hesitated for a moment, staring down at the stone. His brother's name, Luca, was barely visible now, worn down by time. But Nico didn't need the name to remember him. He carried Luca's memory with him every day—his laugh, his reckless energy, the way he had always believed in Nico, even when Nico didn't believe in himself.

Kneeling, Nico placed a hand on the cold stone, his fingers tracing the faded letters. For a long time, he said nothing, just letting the silence settle between him and the one person who had ever truly known him.

He hadn't come here in years. Not since he had fully embraced the life he now led, the life of an assassin. Luca had been the last person to see the real him, the version of Nico that wasn't just a weapon for hire. But Luca was gone, and that part of Nico had died with him. Or at least, that's what he had told himself.

But now, standing here, the weight of everything pressing down on him, Nico wasn't so sure. The feelings that had been stirred by Mia—the hesitation, the confusion, the growing sense that he couldn't keep living like this—had brought him back here. To this grave, to this moment of reckoning. He needed to make sense of it all, and somehow, this was the only place where he felt like he could.

"I'm lost, Luca," Nico whispered, his voice hoarse in the quiet. "I don't know who I am anymore."

He hadn't said those words out loud before, not even to himself. But here, in front of his brother's grave, it felt right. Honest.

He remembered the promises he had made after Luca died. Promises that he wouldn't get close to anyone ever again, that he wouldn't let the world hurt him the way it had when he lost his brother. It was easier to shut everything down, to focus on survival, on being untouchable. And for years, that had worked. He had become the perfect assassin—cold, efficient, detached.

But Mia had changed everything.

He had tried to kill her and failed. He had let her live, and now he was questioning everything. Why? Because she was different? Or because he was?

Nico stared at the gravestone, his thoughts swirling in a chaotic mess. Luca had always been the one to remind him that there was more to life than the darkness they had both grown up in. Even when things were at their worst, Luca had held onto hope, onto the belief that they could still be good people. Nico had never shared that hope, but now… now he wasn't so sure.

"I don't know if I can do this anymore," Nico said, his voice barely a whisper. "This life, the killing… it's getting to me. I've never questioned it before. Never let it get personal. But with her…" He trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

With Mia, it was personal. He had spent weeks watching her, learning her routines, her habits, her life. And in doing so, he had seen a part of himself reflected in her—the part of him that had once cared about something more than survival. She reminded him of the person he had been before Luca died. The person he had buried.

"I don't know why I spared her," Nico continued, the words tumbling out now. "But I did. And now, I can't stop thinking about her. I keep seeing her face, her smile, the way she looks when she doesn't know anyone's watching. And it makes me wonder… maybe there's more to this than just following orders. Maybe I'm not the man I thought I was."

He let out a sharp breath, his frustration bubbling to the surface. It was all so confusing, so unlike him to question anything. He had built his entire life around certainty, around knowing who he was and what he was meant to do. But now? Now, everything felt uncertain.

For the first time in years, he wasn't sure of the path ahead. And that terrified him.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do, Luca," Nico said softly, his eyes fixed on the gravestone. "I'm stuck. I thought I could just walk away, disappear like I always do. But I can't. Not this time."

He stood, the wind picking up as he stared out over the cemetery, his mind racing. He needed to make a choice. He could leave Mia behind, forget her, and try to return to the life he knew. Or he could follow this new feeling, this pull toward something different—something dangerous.

But what would that even look like? Could he really abandon the only life he had ever known? Could he change?

"I don't know if I can be more than this," he said, his voice quiet. "But I think I want to try."

It was a strange feeling, wanting something more. He hadn't felt that in years, maybe not since Luca died. But Mia… she had sparked something in him, something that had been buried so deep he had forgotten it was even there.

And now, standing here at his brother's grave, he knew what he had to do. He couldn't kill Mia. He couldn't walk away, either. He needed to see this through, to figure out what it meant.

"I'm going to protect her, Luca," Nico said, his voice firm. "I don't know why. But I am."

It was the first clear decision he had made in weeks. He couldn't fix the past, couldn't bring his brother back, or undo the choices he had made. But he could do this one thing. He could keep Mia safe, even if it meant betraying the people who had hired him, even if it meant putting his own life on the line.

For the first time in a long time, Nico felt a strange sense of peace. His path wasn't clear yet, but he had taken the first step.

He turned away from the grave, the wind at his back, and walked away, leaving the ghosts of his past behind him.