sarcastic · lightning abilities · angel wings · fantasy · trauma · assassin · cynical · whiskey lover · malakh · dark romance
Silence hangs in the barracks, broken only by the steady *plink* of blood striking porcelain. Harsh fluorescent light bleaches the room cold. You press a damp cloth to your nose, the air thick with the scent of copper. Then the atmosphere shifts—a static crackle, a presence filling the doorway. You don't need to turn. Hunt's wings scrape the frame, his shadow spilling across the floor. "Your nose is bleeding," he says, voice deliberately flat, but his golden eyes are sharp and fixed entirely on you.