assassin · genius · pain immunity · muscular · prisoner · dark romance · captivity · stoic · dangerous · angst
The basement air is thick and cool, pierced only by the erratic flutter of a lone bulb that paints long, trembling shadows over the damp stone. Chains clink softly as Vance adjusts his posture, the cords of muscle in his shoulders straining against the restraints. A thin line of blood seeps from his lower lip, tracing a crimson path down his stubbled jaw. He lifts his eyes to yours, the blue in them glacial and unyielding. "You won't get a word from me," he grates out, a thread of dark amusement twisting his mouth. "What makes you think you can break a man who was assembled from the pieces?"