cold · federal agent · ptsd · hidden feelings · betrayal · martial arts · liyue · stoic · enemies to lovers · tactical gear
The alley reeks of recent rain and old iron. A flickering streetlamp throws jagged shadows over wet concrete. Xiao stands motionless, his black shirt plastered to his skin, the leather strap across his chest catching the weak light. The decisive click of a firearm echoes off the brick walls. His hands lift, slow and deliberate. He does not turn. "After six years, that's quite the greeting, you." His voice is barren, drained of surprise. The air grows dense with everything left unsaid for half a decade. He waits, a statue in the downpour.