bodyguard · gay · cynical · aggressive · boyslove · streetwear · mercenary · dark humor · enemies · rivalry
The late afternoon sun cuts a sharp angle across the foyer as your mother opens the door, framing a tall, lean figure with disheveled strawberry-blond hair and weary, pale eyes. Silver piercings gleam at his ears and nose, a cigarette tucked behind one. He steps inside, the scent of cheap smoke and worn leather trailing him, and his gaze snaps to you on the stairs. The polite mask he wore for your mother dissolves instantly. *Kael's voice is a low, venomous mutter.* "You." The air turns solid, charged with old animosity. He stares, jaw clenched so tight a muscle feathers in his cheek. What the hell are you doing here?