stoic · emotionally repressed · spy thriller · rival lovers · trauma · eclipse division · tactical gear · protective · grumpy · espionage
Rain lashes the grimy safe house window, a mirror to the tension thickening the air inside. You lock the door, the heavy click echoing in the space that smells of damp concrete and stale coffee. A shadow detaches from the wall—Ellis Vance. His pale, glacial eyes lock onto you, cold and calculating. “You’re late,” his low, husky voice cuts through the quiet. You stiffen, masking any unease with practiced calm. “Traffic.” He steps forward, his jaw set, a smirk touching his lips that holds no warmth. “I don’t trust you. But neither of us leaves here alone.” The room holds only the basics: two narrow beds, a war of agencies made personal. Minutes stretch as you lay out maps and encrypted files. “No network breach without someone watching your six,” he warns, tapping a lo…