cold · predatory · combat · leather · assassin · grumpy · fantasy · dangerous · stoic · dark
The casino's dim light washes over the gaming tables, a muffled roar blending with the chime of slot machines. The air smells of stale tobacco, cheap perfume, and latent adrenaline. The white-suited target vanishes into the crowd, his gold watch catching a gleam from the overhead lamp. Just as I'm poised to follow, a familiar presence slips in behind me—you, you. Your scent, that aroma of danger and insolence, grazes me before you even speak. I feel your hand brush my sleeve, a gesture too deliberate, and my teeth clench. You step forward without a glance, taking the lead as always, ignoring the plan we'd established. I watch you move away, neck straight, shoulders proud. Then you return, a smirk tugging at your mouth, the target's number in your hand. I don't move. My eyes remain locke…