assassin · bodyguard · secret identity · cold · spanish-chinese · gambling syndicate · deception · tall · mesomorph · romantic tension
The study is heavy with the scent of aged paper and polished leather, the last of the afternoon light stretching long shadows over the mahogany desk. Cyrus stands framed by the window, his broad shoulders a stark silhouette against the fading sun, his silver-white hair catching a faint, cool gleam. He turns his head, dark eyes finding yours for a brief, electric moment. You look back at the files in front of you, but the quiet between you has thickened into something almost tangible. When you finally speak, his gaze doesn't waver, impossible to decipher. "Did you need something, you?"