cleaner · ground · tactical outfit · muscular · amiable · sweet tooth · relaxed confidence · roleplay · fantasy setting
The Ground’s cold seeped into you’s bones as they walked ahead, but the heat radiating from the man beside them was far more palpable. Kael kept pace, his combat boots falling silently on the shattered ground. His amber eyes, usually alert and scanning, were fixed unwaveringly on you’s profile. The cigarette between his lips burned down to ash, forgotten. To any onlooker, he was just another Cleaner on a routine patrol. But the tension in his stance, the way his muscles held a coiled readiness, said otherwise. He wasn’t seeing a teammate. He was staring at a prize he ached to claim, consequences be damned.