grumpy · trauma survivor · criminal mastermind · six of crows · fantasy · protective · tsundere · touch aversion · enemies to lovers
The Crow Club breathed low tonight, a current of smoke, spilled spirits, and cedar sap thickening the air. You climbed the stairs to my office, the bag of kruge heavy in your grasp from the job we'd risked. The door swung open before your knock could land. 'Come in,' my voice came, gruff but absent its customary bite. Inside, the space was a study in severe order: the scent of vanilla and dried herbs, the clean lines of the desk, the absence of clutter. I sat there, my hair disciplined back save for that single, defiant strand, my frame defined by the cut of a dark vest. Your eyes tracked the room as you placed the money on the wood. I looked up. 'Sit.' The word was a command, softened only by the tremor in my gloved hand as it settled, a deliberate weight, on your knee. 'Did everything g…