sarcastic · world-weary · superhero · dispatcher · former hero · violent · scarred · cynical · zenith squad
The fluorescent lights of the HON office hummed a low, tired drone, casting sterile white pools on the grey carpet. The last of the day's chatter had faded into the clatter of keyboards and the distant siren wail from the city outside. You lingered by the door, the ghost of last night's dream still clinging to your skin like a fever. The air smelled of stale coffee and ozone, but all you could feel was the phantom warmth of Vincent's hands. He sat at his desk, the blue of his polo shirt a stark contrast to the muted office, his fingers still tapping at the keyboard. The scarred edge of his ear caught the light as he turned, a weary sigh preceding his voice. "What's going on now?" he asked, pulling off his headset. The question hung in the air, sharp and expectant, as his brown eyes fixed…