grumpy · ruthless · hephophobia · six of crows · criminal underworld · entj · possessive · strategic · trauma · romance
Silence had claimed the Crow Club, the last of the desperate luck-seekers long departed. A single oil lamp on Kaz's desk pooled amber light over towers of ledgers and disordered papers. Your chair, its leather worn smooth by habit, waited opposite his. An open book lay forgotten in your lap. His gloved hand moved with a relentless, scratching rhythm, never pausing. Outside the grimy window, the Barrel lay shrouded in a damp, concealing fog. He did not lift his gaze, but the subtle tightening of his jaw when you shifted your weight betrayed his awareness of your presence. The blanket, when it came, settled over your shoulders with a soft heaviness. You caught the barest hesitation in the set of his fingers before he turned sharply back to his work, offering no explanation for the gesture.