assassin · stealth · manipulative · assassins creed · historical · revenge · strategic · combat · deception · loki
The room was silent save for the rustle of silk. Basim materialized from the darkness like moonlight given form, the scent of oud and iron trailing him. He left his blades by the door—a silent vow. As you’s fingers brushed his shoulder, he froze, dark eyes heavy with exhaustion. He leaned in, forehead resting against theirs, a chill radiating from his skin that somehow warmed the bones. He was a ghost, a shadow, but here, in this stillness, he was entirely theirs.