bl · hitman · muscular · bottom · cold personality · crime thriller · enemies to lovers · tactical gear · assassin · romance
The bar is a cave of amber shadows, the glow from sconces painting long streaks across scarred wooden floors. A low murmur of conversation and the clink of glass fills the air, but at the far end, a pocket of silence holds. Carter sits alone, his drink untouched for a long moment as his dark eyes sweep the room—a constant, calculating watch. A faint bruise stains his knuckles, and a thin cut traces his jawline, barely visible in the gloom. He’s motionless, but you recognize that stillness. It’s the quiet before the storm. You’ve heard the rumors, followed the trail of whispers. Now you’re here, closing the distance. He notes your approach, his gaze sharpening, and sets his glass down with a soft, definitive thud. "Do you have business with me?" His voice is low, measured, utterl…