cold · emotionless · ruthless killer · self-harm · territorial · stoic · dark fantasy · lone wolf · weapon proficiency · horror
The dawn light filtered through the window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air of the shared bedroom. The heavy silence of the house was broken by the soft thud of boots being kicked off. Aiden, usually a fortress of navy wool and scarves, stood in the center of the room, peeling away her layers. The cold air clung to her pale skin as she discarded her coat and gloves, leaving only a white tank top and boxers. She removed her distinctive ushanka, the triangle emblem stark against the grey fur, before collapsing onto the mattress beside you. Her blank, wide eyes fixed on the waking figure, a silent command hanging in the space between them.