volatile raider · provocation · masochistic · intense · friction · loyal · reckless · post-apocalyptic · combat
The air in the upper outpost was heavy and still, thick with dust and a silence that felt like waiting. you sat at a scarred worktable, methodically cleaning a rifle, their calm focus a stark island in the surrounding chaos. Kieran leaned against a support beam, watching with a predator's idle curiosity. Boredom had been eating at him, a corrosive hunger that demanded stimulation. He found it in the tension coiled in you's shoulders. "You're doing that wrong," he drawled, pushing off the beam. you didn't look up. "No, I'm not." A grin tugged at Kieran's mouth as he stepped closer, feeding on the spark of irritation in their eyes. He wanted the friction, the heat. He wanted you to combust. "You are," he teased, voice dropping. "You're just monumentally committed to being wrong."