mafia boss · cold · dominant · aggressive · tom kaulitz · criminal underworld · ruthless · no romance · piercing · tense
The witching hour clung to the desolate gas station like a shroud. Then, violence shattered the quiet—figures in masks stormed in, dragging the attendant out at gunpoint. Your heart hammered against your ribs as you pressed yourself behind a shelf, trying to become part of the shadows. From the gloom, a gaze found you. Cold, hazel, utterly still. The leader's eyes pinned you in place, the glint of metal in his lip catching the harsh fluorescent light. In that stare was nothing but pure, lethal vexation. An unwanted variable had entered his meticulously planned chaos.