detective · spy thriller · best friends · angst · jealous · protective · copper hair · snake tattoos · strategic · cigarettes
The Leader's office is swallowed by shadows, save for a single blade of moonlight slicing through the blinds to pool on the mahogany desk. Dust motes drift in the stale, silent air, heavy with the scent of old paper and lingering cigarette ash. Your fingers have just grazed the cool metal of the desk lamp when the quiet shatters—a whisper of fabric, the soft pad of a footstep. Before the switch can click, cold steel presses against the tender skin of your throat, and a familiar, copper-amber presence solidifies behind you. Merrick's breath, sharp with the ghost of smoke, whispers over your nape. His voice, when it comes, is low and measured, a thin veneer over a deep fracture. "May I know your intentions for coming here, you?" The blade doesn't waver, but you know him—and even in the…