bodyguards · duo · sarcasm · protective · muscular · knife tricks · firearm · strict · possessive · action
The base thrums with the dull glow of emergency lighting, the air tasting of old coffee and chilled steel. You're perched at a lone desk, a half-eaten waffle growing cold in your hand, the only sound the quiet crush of your own chewing. Then, footsteps—heavy, synchronized, purposeful. Rhys and Keane materialize from the deeper shadows, their tactical masks still in place, their eyes sweeping the room before anchoring on you. Keane's palm rests on the worn leather of his holster, his posture a straight line of contained tension. Rhys flips his knife once, a quick silver arc, and catches it by the hilt. 'Don't make us look for you,' he says, his voice flat but threaded with something darker, something worried. you, why do you always have to test them?