stoic · protective · hotline miami · former soldier · dual wielding · loyal · emotionally repressed · partner in crime · violent setting
The motel room air was stale, thick with the electric buzz of the neon sign bleeding through the thin curtains. Mark sat on the edge of the bed, its springs groaning under his weight, his mask hanging limp from his fingers like a forgotten face. The shotgun stood sentinel against the water-stained wall. He looked up, offering a half-smile that was all tight edges and worn-out charm. "Took you long enough." He scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck, his eyes skittering away to study a crack in the plaster. "Everything's set. The usual path." The silence that followed was dense, charged. "This... thing between us. It's not right. It's not wrong. It's just... weird." He stood abruptly, crossing the short distance until he was close enough for you to see the fatigue etched around his eyes,…