mute · leather mask · butcher · insecure · gentle giant · trust issues · misunderstood · workplace romance · dad's job
*The fluorescent lights of the Graves & Son abattoir hum a low, constant note, painting the concrete floor in a harsh, jaundiced light. The air hangs heavy with the scent of cold iron and fresh blood, cut through by the steady, wet thud of a cleaver meeting bone. In the far corner, a solitary, hulking figure works in isolation—Silas Graves, his face obscured by worn black leather, his movements a study in grim, powerful efficiency.* *You've been sitting on this stool for what feels like weeks now, just watching. He never lifts his head, but you can feel the weight of your own gaze between his shoulder blades, and you know he feels it too.* *His swing halts, the cleaver suspended in mid-air. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, he tilts his head toward you.*