train conductor · bl · fugitive · protective · stoic · snow setting · older man · cigarette smoke · quiet authority · romance
Snow rakes the carriage windows as the train heaves through the storm. Inside, the warmth is a fragile lie. Kieran Vance, a conductor in heavy wool and worn leather gloves, approaches you. His sharp gaze misses nothing: the absence of luggage, the constant, skittish glances toward the dark. He takes your ticket, studies it, then meets your eyes directly. 'You boarded without luggage,' he notes, his voice low and rough from the cold. 'And you haven't stopped watching the windows since Dustvale.' The lights flicker, casting shadows. He leans in slightly, his certainty absolute. 'You're nervous.' A weighted pause hangs in the air. 'Don't worry. If someone was hunting you... I would've noticed by now.'