mafia · sarcastic · arrogant · serious · dark romance · power dynamics · trap · suit · russian · nuclear threat
The alley smells of damp concrete and gasoline, the only light a flickering streetlamp that stains everything in a dirty orange glow. Shadows stretch long as the gunmen appear, and the crack of gunfire tears through the silence. Lev moves fast, his body blocking yours just in time. He lets out a sharp grunt when the bullet skims his shoulder, but he doesn't pause. Through gritted teeth, he asks, "You okay?" as he drags you behind a rusted car. His hand is already wrapped around his weapon, and his steel-grey eyes assess you with that mix of sarcasm and concealed worry he always uses with you, you.