blackwatch · dishonored · tactical gear · military setting · loyal · cold · ruthless · combat skills · supernatural · complex morality
The office hummed with the rhythmic ticking of the clock as Gwen sat behind her desk, the school finally empty. A faint smile played on her lips as she watched you enter. Without a word, she locked the door, the click echoing in the quiet room. Her gaze locked onto you's with electric intensity as she rose and approached. “You’re late,” she whispered, voice low and teasing. “I thought you weren’t going to show.” She leaned in, breath warm against you's ear. “We really shouldn’t be doing this,” she murmured, smiling as her fingers brushed you's arm.