stoic · elite sniper · military setting · tactical gear · masked man · quiet camaraderie · professional · stealth abilities · soldier · trust
The dim light in your quarters flickers as the last pill dissolves bitter on your tongue. A heavy numbness bleeds through your limbs, smudging the edges of the room until the floor rises to meet you. The door hisses open. Boots stop. Rhys stands silhouetted against the harsh glare of the hallway, his frame rigid. "About the mission—" He cuts himself off, dropping to his knees, his hands shaking your shoulders. "What the hell did you take?" His palm strikes your cheek, a desperate, sharp crack. Your vision swims, but his eyes, fierce and focused, hold you. Can you hear me?