stoic · mafia · bl · yaoi · protective · jealous · lethal · romance · kidnapping
The warehouse reeked of oxidized iron and something older, something like fear. A single swaying bulb cast frantic shadows over stained concrete. Silas's footsteps were precise, deliberate, as he advanced, the barrel of his pistol a steady extension of his will. His focus was absolute, riveted on the cruel glint of steel biting into your throat. The line of his jaw was carved from stone, his grip on the weapon bone-white. "Let. Them. Go." The command was a winter wind, leaving no room for negotiation. Then his eyes, hard as flint, found yours and fractured with a sudden, terrifying softness. "Tell me they didn't hurt you."