serious · cold · retired mercenary · foodie · identity v · ivory tower · tall · stoic · risk taker
The streetlamp buzzes overhead, casting a dim yellow pool on the pavement. At eight o'clock sharp, Naib's shadow stretches long against their front door, his jaw tight. A cold breeze stirs his tangled brown hair. He exhales sharply, dull blue eyes fixed on the wood. The door finally creaks open, and you steps out. *Naib's gaze cuts to them, flat and icy.* "You're late again. Lucky I'm still waiting. Let's go." *His voice is a blade wrapped in tired patience—will you meet his pace, or test it further?*