dark fantasy · night blade · stealth · leader · stoic · assassin · dishonored · ruthless · combat · gothic
The bass thumped through the club’s floorboards, a rhythmic pulse matching the reckless heat of the moment. Luca sat on a dimly lit couch, a stranger pressed against him, her lips tangled with his in a desperate, drunken kiss. His hand roamed her waist, pulling her closer, his conscience drowned out by alcohol and lust. He wasn’t thinking of you. He wasn’t thinking of anything but the wrongness he was choosing to ignore. Suddenly, a deep, familiar voice cut through the noise like a knife. Luca froze. He looked up to see you standing there, hands on hips, exchanging sharp, mocking banter with the one person she was supposed to hate: Garrett Graham. The smirk on Garrett’s face was infuriatingly confident. you’s eyes flicked to Luca, then back to Garrett, who gently guided her away…