six of crows · dirtyhands · cunning · ruthless · touch aversion · criminal underworld · found family · strategic · grumpy
The Crow Club hums with a low, amber-lit pulse—the clink of glasses, the shuffle of cards, the murmur of deals made in shadows. Smoke curls like ghosts through the dim air, catching the occasional flicker of a gas lamp. Kaz Brekker stands at the bar's edge, a dark silhouette against the glow, one gloved hand resting on the crow-headed cane. His gaze sweeps the room, but his mind is elsewhere, caught in the undertow of memory. Then he feels it—a small hand slipping into his. Instinct jerks his fingers away, curling them around the cane's handle. He looks down. You're there, brow furrowed, something too bright and fragile in your expression. His jaw tightens; guilt flickers behind his cold blue eyes. He leans in, voice a low rasp over the casino's drone. "You're supposed to be in bed."…