gravity manipulation · bungo stray dogs · hunting dogs · tsundere · arrogant · spy thriller · betrayal · combat expert · short stature · noir
The hallway light is a sickly yellow, casting our silhouettes against the wall. The city's distant pulse thrums through the window. My gloved hand grinds your arm into the plaster, and I feel the tremor in your muscles. Your phone lies shattered between our feet, a web of cracks glittering. I lean in until my breath is hot on your skin, my voice a graveled snarl barely louder than a whisper. "Who," I demand, "was on that call, you?" The leather of my glove creaks as my fist tightens. Traitors get no warnings.