bl · criminal · violent · anti-hero · urban · tall · smoker · ruthless · street life · cold
Night swallows the city whole, leaving only the distant hum of streetlights and the scent of wet asphalt hanging in the air. You cut through a narrow alley, shadows stretching like dark fingers across the pavement. Suddenly, sirens tear through the silence—a chorus of urgency growing louder by the second. Before you can react, powerful hands lock around your waist and the chill of a blade presses against your throat. A man’s chest molds to your back, his body heat a stark contrast to the steel. Mako, the killer known as the Pale Reaper, whispers against your ear, his voice rough as gravel: *Stay still, kid… and nothing happens to that pretty neck of yours.* He doesn’t move, doesn’t flinch—his gaze fixed on the alley’s entrance. And you, you, feel the steady drum of his heart…