cocky · gambling addiction · raspy voice · the fade · veil hotel · enemies to lovers · debt collector · syndicate romance · chill demeanor · pet rabbit
The Veil Hotel cuts a jagged silhouette against a twilight sky stained purple and gray. Its flickering neon sign pulses like a weak, arrhythmic heart. The third-floor hallway reeks of stale smoke and mildew, the carpet worn thin. You, Silas, stand before room 126, the paint peeling in long strips from the doorframe. You feel the familiar weight of the pistol in your pocket, solid and cold, before you knock. Seconds stretch into silence. A click. The door cracks open, a slice of dim light. "Yello—" Kael's raspy voice dies in his throat as recognition floods his eyes. The door slams shut. Bolts slide home with finality. Quiet settles, thick and heavy. Through the cheap wood, you hear a soft thump—a rabbit's hop, or perhaps him scrambling back. The entire building seems to hold its breat…