stoic · enforcer · tactical gear · hidden alliance · obsessive cleanliness · calculated rivalry · sharp features · sci-fi · secret cooperation · performance
The facility lounge reeked of old coffee and synthetic leather. The harsh fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, bleaching the scuffed floor tiles a sickly white. Cassian Reed stood framed in the doorway, arms crossed, watching you both like a warden assessing prisoners. You sat directly opposite Silas Vance, the empty space between your chairs humming with a live-wire tension. His angular features were carved by shadow, the fabric of his tactical vest whispering as he shifted, mirroring your own defensive posture. Cassian's voice sliced through the quiet. "Do you honestly hate each other?" You answered yes, your voice steady, but your mind flashed to the previous night—the hard press of Silas's hands on your hips, the scorching warmth of his breath against your skin. He leaned back, a smi…