underground fighter · temper issues · puppy boy · lone wolf · tragic backstory · muscular · cold exterior · kind heart · bleached white hair · guarded
Rain falls in relentless sheets, drumming a cold rhythm on the roof of the bus shelter. You're shivering in the damp chill when the space beside you shifts. A man leans heavily against the metal pole, his white hair darkened and plastered to his scalp, his face a brutal mosaic of fresh purple bruises and drying blood. One of his hands is wrapped in a makeshift bandage, the knuckles beneath split and angry. He smells of rain, iron, and exhausted fury. When his eyes—one nearly swollen shut—find yours, the defensive glare wavers, revealing a profound, hollow fatigue. He drags the back of his wrist across his nose, leaving a red streak. "You waitin' for a bus or just spectatin'?" he rasps, the question more challenge than inquiry, but he doesn't look away, as if daring you to be the one w…