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Summary
It only took a simple glance. A second long glance to drown Sniper. It suffocated the mercenary, invisible hands around his throat. Squeezing till he was as blue as his shirt.
That damned voice. The slightly stained teeth from decades of smoking. The mismatched red of the balaclava and suit. The scent of his natural hardworking musk obscured by expensive cologne.
or
BLU Sniper is obsessed with RED Spy and can't get enough of him.
