Beyond the Crosshair (Hitman!Jones x Reader)

Preview

Despite how the hands in my watch told me it was already 12:07, the entire city of New York was still awake. All the buildings and every sign had their lights on. The traffic didn't get any better and the sound of cars honking echoed throughout the streets below me.

   I checked my watch again; still 12:07—no, wait. 12:08. How long does it take to study, or whatever it was she did as an intern? Inever went to high school, or middle school for that matter, and when Idisguised myself as a college student I never needed to study because I've already learned pretty much everything they were teaching. 

   Looking away from my watch, I raised Gilbert's old Dragunov and peeked through the scope. Both of the gates were still open but no car was passing through. Where could she possibly be?

   Sighing, I leaned on the wall and took out my phone. I stared at the picture Gilbert sent me: she was reading a textbook on the small dining table with Ludwig drinking coffee beside her. What was so special about her? She was way older than me, there were always designer bags under those pretty eyes, she doesn't have the slightest taste in fashion—always wearing that stupid coat over her body, she lives on the other side, and...

   I had to take a moment to breathe. The air suddenly felt warm and my heart was being weird. Even the smallest, slightest mention of her was enough to change the way the blood in my veins flowed.

   "...aAaaArgh!" I pulled and ruffled my hair. As I wiped my bangs away from my eyes, Gilbert's voice replayed inside my head: "Your heart is trying to tell you something, Alfred. Do you have the guts to listen to it?"

   My grip on the rifle tightened. Please. My heart stopped beating since that day, it never experienced the feeling of getting broken, only the way a coldness seeped through its muscles; slowly and steadily consuming it and freezing it into a hard blackness. It never got broken, and I won't let it go through that.

   Something moved from the corner of my eye. Quickly looking through the scope, I saw her come out the main entrance with her backpack and running shoes, horribly paired with that stupid lab coat.

   After everything that happened in the past I thought I could never find it inside me to care, let alone fall for someone. And I was perfectly fine with that: less things to worry about. But she just had to come along, with her hair almost always tied up into a tail or a bun, and the faintest smell of vapor rub. Always in my mind, always in my thoughts. A ghost that won't stop following me and a cloud that won't stop looming over me.

   I put my finger on the trigger as she stopped just outside the gate to search for something in her bag.

   If I kill her, maybe I can go back to normal. 

Disclaimer:

Hitman!Jones is from http://ask-hitman-jones.tumblr.com/

I don't own Hetalia or any of its characters.

The illustrations of the crosshair (retrieved from: https://thenounproject.com/term/crosshair/5622/) and the blue (edited) butterfly (retrieved from: http://www.nonsequiturstamps.com/index.php?item=--3_-x-5-cm&action=article&aid=618&lang=EN) and the black butterfly (retrieved from: https://openclipart.org/detail/242519/retro-floral-butterfly-silhouette) are not mine.

All rights go to their respective owners.

Author's Note: In real life I would never dream about dating someone who takes pleasure in murder, but this is fiction so please don't say anything mean. Stay awesome, dudes!