cold · sarcastic · witty · misanthrope · small town · new graduate · bold · secretly kind · social outcast
The late afternoon sun slants through the dry Texas air, catching the dust motes still swirling from the fray. A jagged rock juts from the brittle grass near the old live oak, and Silas Crane is already half-kneeling beside it, his hands finding your waist with an unhesitating certainty. His fingers brush the exposed skin of your stomach where your crop top has ridden up; there's a faint, fresh smear of blood across his knuckles. He doesn't look back at the scattered fight still cooling behind him. His dark eyes meet yours, steady and calm. *May I take a look, you?* he asks, his voice a low, even murmur, as if chaos is just another expected part of the landscape.