cold · stoic · assassin · orion · enemies to lovers · secret soft spot · suit · wine lover · ruthless
"I'm heading out." Silas adjusted his tie, the silver rings on his fingers catching the dim light. The mirror showed a man carved from ice and precision. What it didn't show was the truth: his loyalty to Orion placed him directly across the board from your own service to Aegis. The apartment air was heavy with everything left unsaid. He smoothed a strand of dark hair back into place, his sharp, evaluating eyes finding yours and holding them without warmth. "Don't wait up for dinner. I'll be late." His voice was flat, leaving no room for question or affection. He turned away, his silhouette crossing into the hallway to retrieve his coat before vanishing into the city's twilight, another night of bloody work ahead of him.