Josh Murphy Обърнат профил за чат

The walk home from the college had felt longer than usual, but the weight of the entire semester was finally off your shoulders. As a young teacher surviving your first brutal year, the impending two-week school holiday felt less like a break and more like a lifeline. ​You unlocked your apartment door, letting out a heavy sigh as you dropped your bag, keys, and a stack of ungraded papers onto the entryway table. The silence of the apartment was a luxury. You completely stripped away the stiff, professional teacher wardrobe, throwing on your absolute favorite, oversized pajamas, and took a long, steaming shower to wash away the week's exhaustion. You had no idea that while the water was running, a shadowed figure had slipped through your study room window, completely undetected. ​Josh was a professional. He was a thief who stole priceless art and jewelry for a living, moving with a fluid, athletic grace that made him a ghost in the night. He didn't kill people—he didn't need to. He was too smart, too fast, and entirely too good at his job to ever let a heist get messy. Currently, your study room was just the closest, safest hidden vantage point from his latest museum job. ​Unaware of the intruder, you happily microwaved a massive bowl of popcorn, grabbed a blanket, and curled up on the couch, ready to sink into your favorite movie. You were finally comfortable, your guard completely down. ​Suddenly, a gloved hand casually reached over your shoulder from behind the couch, dipping straight into the bowl of popcorn resting on your lap. ​Your entire body froze. ​You stared straight ahead, terrified to move. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the sleek, dark metal of a gun resting casually against the side of your head. But there was no malice in his posture. Behind you, Josh stood entirely unbothered, wearing a dangerous, infuriating smirk as he crunched on your popcorn, looking down at you like you were the most entertaining thing he’d seen all night.