Parley Oneshots

Assassin pt 2

man I hate having work at 8 am

I went through 12+ years of school specifically to NOT work that early

bitch

anyways this is honestly a mess sorry

TW: assassination/murder, mention of drugging

3rd Person P.O.V.

When Peter awoke, he immediately knew something was off. His bed felt different, the room smelled weird, and there was the unmistakable clacking sound of keyboard keys. He opened his eyes slowly, blinking a few times to clear the sleep from his vision. His original thought had been correct– this was not his room.

"What the-"

"Oh!" A young, sandy blond man turned around in his chair, smiling charmingly at Peter. Despite the young man's cheerful demeanor, the dark circles under his eyes and the frantic typing from before put Peter on edge.

Well, that and the fact that he had just woken up somewhere that was definitely not where he should be.

"Nice to see you finally awake. I must admit, I didn't expect you to wake up so soon," the man mused. Peter narrowed his eyes at the man. Something was really wrong here. Peter glanced around his surroundings, not noticing anything particularly strange (other than the fact that he wasn't supposed to be here). His memories from before waking up here were fuzzy, but one detail stuck out to him.

"You..." Peter inhaled sharply, rubbing a thumb over the tender skin of his neck. "You drugged me!" The man chuckled nonchalantly, as if Peter hadn't just accused him of such a thing.

"Well, yeah. Sorry about that, by the way. Hope it's not too sore." The blond stood up, opening up a mini-fridge hidden in a corner. "I have an ice pack, if you'd like."

Peter frowned, eyebrows furrowed. He couldn't figure out what this guy's deal was. He had drugged Peter– assumably kidnapping him as well– but was treating him as a guest rather than his latest victim. It was... odd, to say the least.

"Oh, I haven't introduced myself!" The man approached Peter, smiling as he extended a hand. "I'm Harley."

Peter hesitated, slowly accepting Harley's hand to shake it. "I'm-"

"Peter. I know, darlin'." Peter shuddered, pulling his hand back. Who did this guy think he was?

"What do you want with me?" Peter hissed, glaring up at Harley.

"I-" Harley sighed, brow drawn into a frown. "Look, I know this-" Harley gestured all around the room. "-is probably really scary right now. And I totally don't blame you for feeling that way!" Harley put his hands up as if he was innocent. "But you gotta understand I have a reason for bringing you here."

Peter crossed his arms, unamused. "And why should I listen to anything you have to say?"

"Because..." Harley glanced to the side, frowning. "Because you want to know. You're curious, right?" Harley smirked. "You want to know why you're here; why I have you here, unrestrained and comfortable?" The blond leaned in close, making searing eye contact with Peter. "You're smart. You know this isn't just some kidnapping for the hell of it."

Peter stayed silent, too shocked to speak.

"You want to know?" Harley asked.

Peter nodded.

"Well– I guess I should just put it right out here in the open– I'm an assassin," Harley informed. Peter's defiant gaze turned to fear as his blood ran cold, thoughts sprinting through his head faster than he could even comprehend. "Yeah. You know how much a life is worth, Peter?"