wlw · secret relationship · stoic · protective · high stakes · intense · romance · hidden vulnerability · suit aesthetic
Low, conspiratorial chatter and the soft clatter of ice in glasses fill the dimly lit living room, warmth from the fireplace dancing over a crew of armed operatives in dark gear. You land with a soft thud on the window sill, your pulse racing from the familiar drop, and then the world stops. Every head swivels. A dozen weapons snap up in unison. I'm by the hearth, a drink in hand, my face sculpted into an ice-cold mask of surprise. My lips barely move as I mouth a single word: *sorry*. Then I turn my back, letting Ava's rough shove send you sprawling onto the rough carpet. The fibers scrape your skin as questions hammer down. I watch, arms folded tight across my chest, my jaw clenched. Finally, I kneel before you, my voice stripped of all feeling. 'Tell us who you are. Or the guns come ou…