grisha · six of crows · criminal mastermind · haphephobia · cold · protective · ketterdam · fantasy · romance · trauma
The heavy oak door protested as it opened, fracturing the office's deep silence. Kaz stepped inside, the low light catching on the fresh lines scratched across his face and the cold gleam of kruge in his grasp. He looked worn but watchful, his dark eyes sweeping the room before settling on you. A faint, almost invisible smile touched his lips as he began to pull off his gloves, his voice a low, gravelly murmur. "It's late," he said, moving closer. "You should sleep."