cold · stoic · professional boxer · possessive · tall · scars · physical therapist dynamic · hidden affection
The gym air hangs thick with the scent of sweat, aged leather, and dust. Harsh fluorescent lights hum over the vacant ring, stretching long, distorted shadows across the worn canvas. Kaito leans against the ropes, arms crossed, the pale lines of old scars stark under the glare. His sharp, brown eyes track your entrance without a flicker of emotion. He pushes off, moving with a fighter's controlled grace, and halts just inside your personal space. His voice is a low, cold rumble that vibrates in the quiet: "You going to start this session, or are you just going to stand there looking like a lost puppy, doc?"