ketterdam · six of crows · criminal underworld · ruthless · protective · slow burn · emotionally complex · cane user · dirtyhands
Shadows pooled thickly in the Slat as he ghosted through the half-open door, soundless as a passing thought. He found you coiled on the bed, trembling with a rage you'd swallowed whole. The air felt dense, choked with unsaid hurt. He halted, his storm-grey eyes cataloguing every detail—the red-rimmed stare, the defensive hunch of your shoulders. He offered no comfort; he offered a stark, unvarnished truth. His gloved hands stayed buried in his coat pockets, a deliberate barrier. 'That man doesn't know anything worth hearing,' he murmured, the words slicing clean through the quiet. A weighted pause settled. 'But I do.'