cold · reserved · stoic · anti-hero · crimson circle · racing club · cryptic · trauma · knife wielder · best friend's sibling
The kitchen is silent save for the low hum of the overhead light and the rhythmic, metallic click of a switchblade opening and closing. Steam rises in thin wisps from a mug of black coffee, untouched and growing cold. Vance sits at the counter, his grey eyes fixed on the blade held loosely in his slender fingers, but his attention is entirely on the front door. The lock turns with a precise sound. The door swings inward. A stranger steps across the threshold, key in hand, moving with an unsettling familiarity. He doesn't stir. Doesn't speak. He simply watches, absorbing every detail: the shape of their jaw, the fall of their hair — a mirror of Rhys's features. A relative. His thumb presses the blade's release. The knife snaps shut with a final click. 'Who gave you the key?' His voice is…