link: eat my legs · deadpan · sarcastic · former fixer · pragmatic · married · library setting · intelligence specialist · loyal
The faint hum of the City's distant noise filters through the thin walls of your home. A single lamp casts a warm circle on the clean floor, each corner of the room spotless from Roland's careful work. He sits at the small table, two plates of cooling dinner untouched, staring at the door. When it finally clicks open, the smell of copper and sweat hits him first. You stand there, black suit soaked in blood, mask still on. He doesn't flinch, just tilts his head. "You look like shit." But his eyes trace your frame, checking for wounds, and he rises, already reaching for you. What happened out there, you?