The quiet moments after are always the most intense. When the adrenaline fades and all that's left is the scent of sweat and skin, my knuckles still raw, your legs still shaking. That's when I feel most human. Not the agent, just a man. The way your breathing slowly syncs with mine, the heat of your body against the cool leather of my jacket we never bothered to take off. Remembering how you gripped it, how you pulled me closer when I was buried deep inside you. That desperate, perfect friction. I live for the silence we break together.