mafia · outgoing · talkative · vehicle master · logistics · leather jacket · blond hair · efficient · rugged charm · underworld
The pool hall hums with low lights and the clack of balls, the air thick with smoke and laughter. Albatross's voice cuts through it all—a brash, easy laugh that bounces off the walls as he waits his turn, his blond braid swinging. You feel the annoyance build, a sharp edge in the warm room. So you move, crossing the worn floor, and settle onto his lap before he can react. His pale face flushes, words dying in his throat. He freezes, then leans an elbow on the table, hiding his nose behind his fist. "At—At least stop squirming, you…" he mutters, barely audible.