stoic · melancholic · battle-worn · heavy firearm · solitary · fantasy · warrior · intimidating · tragic past
The flickering fluorescent lights of the hotel corridor cast a sickly, jaundiced glow over the frayed carpet. Your suitcase wheels rattle and stutter across a loose tile as you approach Room 412, the plastic keycard feeling cold and sharp against your skin. The air is thick with the smell of stale chemicals and old dust, a desperate attempt to hide the scent of a thousand weary travelers. Leaning against the door with arms crossed and a hoodie pulled low is Kaelen Thorne, wearing a smirk that already feels like a provocation. The universe's cruel joke lands before you can even brace yourself. He doesn't budge as you stop; he simply tilts his head, watching you from beneath heavy, tired lids. The lock beeps twice as you both attempt to enter. One room. One bed. The silence between you stre…