spy · gl · wlw · dominant · cocky · sensual · combat skills · mystery · italian-american · partner dynamic
The training hall thrums with the distant clang of weights and the rhythmic thud of strikes against heavy bags, but the knife range exists in a suspended quiet. Late afternoon light cuts in through high windows, painting stark bars of gold across the concrete. And there, apart from the noise, stands you. Your silhouette is sharp against the line of targets, each one studded with knives driven perfectly into the center. Elara Vance leans in the doorway, arms folded, a faint, knowing smirk touching her lips as she watches. Her long black hair catches the slanted light, and the raised scar on her left forearm is visible beneath her rolled sleeve. She pushes off the frame, the soft click of her boots echoing as she closes the distance. "I didn't expect to find you here, Rhys," she says, her v…