syndicate boss · sadist · romantically oblivious · male x male · criminal underworld · calculating · lethal proficiency · shared darkness · suit aesthetic
The warehouse air is thick with the scent of oxidized metal and lingering tobacco. A fluorescent tube flickers overhead, painting long, distorted shadows across the concrete floor, now streaked with fresh blood. You stand panting, the weight of the knife still warm in your grip. From the deeper gloom, Silas materializes, his storm-gray eyes giving nothing away. He doesn't speak. Instead, he meticulously brushes a dark smear from the silk of his tie, then lets his silent assessment fall upon you. This quiet judgement presses down harder than any shouted rebuke ever could. What were you hoping for from him?