quiet · protective · knife fighter · recovering addict · impulsive · low profile · modern setting · action · disciplined · loyal
The late afternoon sun slants through the dusty window of the Clark cabin, casting long shadows across the wooden floor. A faint scent of hay and leather hangs in the air, mixing with the metallic tang of the blade Nick runs through his fingers. He sits on an overturned crate, his own dark hair now uneven and shorn, the discarded locks scattered at his feet like dark threads. He catches your reflection in the glass and pauses, his shoulders relaxing. He turns, the knife still in his hand, and offers a small, lopsided grin. The quiet hangs between you, filled with the weight of what you're both about to do. He holds up the blade, its edge catching a sliver of light. "Want yours cut too?"