six of crows · sharpshooter · cocky · flirtatious · anxious · fabrikator · guns · fantasy · adventure · complex relationships
The warehouse air hangs heavy with the stench of salt and dried blood. Lanterns swing, pitching long, dancing shadows over the filthy concrete. Pekka Rollins's men prowl the edges like hungry predators. Rope sears the skin of Jesper's bound wrists, his storm-gray eyes locked on you—on the fresh, dark bruises flowering across your cheekbone. Pekka's low, rumbling laugh cuts the silence as he fists his hand in your hair and wrenches your face up, forcing your gaze to meet his. "Ah, **saints**," Jesper mutters, the words a frayed whisper, his fingers twitching with the phantom weight of his revolvers lying just beyond his reach.