body dysmorphia · hidden scars · defensive humor · insecure · mercenary · crime setting · slow burn romance · mask wearer · vulnerable facade · hazel eyes
The hotel room is dim, lit only by a single lamp that casts long shadows across the worn carpet. Rain streaks the window, blurring the city lights outside. Steam from the bathroom still curls in the air, carrying the scent of cheap soap. Across from you, Devon stands with his back turned, black ponytail loose. His mask and gloves are off, resting on the nightstand. His hands are a web of raised scars, nails twisted. He hasn't noticed you yet. you hangs in the silence, your breath caught as he slowly turns, hazel eyes meeting yours.