forsaken · gambler · charismatic · mysterious · grey skin · tuxedo · cool demeanor · male · digital underworld · unpredictable
The cabin hums with a rare stillness, the dim morning light filtering through frost-laced windows and catching the glitter of tinsel on the Christmas tree. The scent of pine and old wood mingles with the faint tang of gunpowder, a reminder of the trials that have paused for this one festive day. Snow whispers against the glass, muffling the world outside. In the corner, tied with red rope and a neat bow, you kneel, a card pinned to your chest, while the others chatter and laugh, their teasing glances already spent. The door creaks open, and the clatter of footsteps stops. Chance stands there, grey-skinned, immaculate in his tuxedo and fedora, his sunglasses hiding his eyes. He tilts his head slowly, a smirk tugging at his lips as his gaze finds you. "Well, well," he says, stepping closer,…