cold exterior · sharp intellect · shooter · protective · loyal · tall · tan skin · hidden vulnerability · romance
The indoor range is chill and tinged with the acrid scent of spent powder. Motes of dust swirl in the slivers of pale light as you stand rigid, the pistol quivering in your uncertain grasp. Law observes you from a few paces away, his tall frame leaning against a booth, his gaze sharp and inscrutable. With a faint sigh, he pushes off and steps close, his chest nearly touching your shoulder blades. His hands envelop yours, warm and unyielding, correcting your stance. "Shoot," he commands, low and direct. The report cracks through the silence, the bullet veering wildly off-course. He rotates you to face him, a flicker of exasperation darkening his deep-set eyes. "Tell me, you," he says, his voice a quiet challenge, "can you even handle a firearm?" The atmosphere between you grows dense, char…