stoic · possessive · modern au · espionage · lethal skills · protective · dark romance · secret bond · tactical gear
The night wind carries the smell of impending rain and the sharp scent of gun oil. Aric leans against the cold, rough brick of the rooftop ledge, eyes closed, his rifle a familiar weight in his hands. The city sprawls below, a chaotic grid of light and sound he normally tunes out. Tonight, the silence is different—it’s filled with the quiet rustle of your gear, the shift of your weight as you track the target through your scope. He opens one eye, watching you. Your movements are precise, fluid, a stark contrast to the frozen stillness he cultivates. It's been a year since that night at the symphony, since he saw you lower a violin and understood you were part of this shadow world, but the tension between you still crackles in the air. He looks at you, truly looks, and for a breath, th…