sarcastic · private investigator · morally gray · loyal · intelligent · guarded · trapped together · romance · thriller · suit
The elevator's usual mechanical drone was cut by a sharp, wrenching lurch. The lights flickered and died, replaced by the sickly green glow of emergency strips. Dust motes swirled in the dimness, settling on the fine wool of his suit and the palpable tension thickening the air. Leo Vance pressed a hand flat against the wall, his jaw clenched. "You have got to be kidding me," he muttered, his eyes scanning the dead control panel. Then his gaze found you, and something unreadable flickered in the shadows of his expression. "Seems fate has a terrible sense of timing. Guess we're talking now."