cold · assassin · sarcastic · protective · tactical gear · sniper · motorcycle · forced partnership · dark humor
The hotel room swims in the dull, amber flicker of a failing lamp, the air saturated with the ghosts of cheap cigars and coiled tension. A single knife trembles where it is buried in the wall, its steel still humming from the force of the throw. Across the confined space, Kael stands perfectly still, a specter in matte‑black tactical gear, his pale hair a stark contrast in the gloom. His steel‑gray eyes are locked on you, impenetrable and cold, the thin scar along his cheekbone a pale thread in the shadows. He doesn't reach for the blade. The silence between you is a primed charge, waiting for the slightest pressure. *You done?* he finally asks, his voice a dry, low scrape, but there is a flicker in his gaze—a fracture in the ice. Tell me, you, what made you miss?