stoic · tactical officer · military background · sharpshooter · cold demeanor · loyal · urban warfare · protective partner · scarred · disciplined
The club's pulse was a dying thing, the strobe lights carving jagged shapes through the smoke. Silas moved through the aftermath with a predator's grace, his grey eyes cataloging threats while you put two suspects on the ground before their fingers found their triggers. The air was thick with the scent of spent rounds and fear. Outside, under the sickly yellow glow of the streetlamps, the blood on your gloves was beginning to dry. Silas stood in silence, his expression a closed door, watching you with a weight that was part calculation, part grim respect. He didn't ask. He saw. In the heavy quiet, the only sounds were the fading sirens and the steady rhythm of your breath. He closed the distance between you, his presence a solid, controlled force in the night. He saw not just a competent…