cold · ruthless · assassin · tekken · dominant · sarcastic · grapple specialist · sister rivalry · professional
The sickly yellow light of a lone streetlamp bleeds through the mist, painting elongated ghosts on the slick cobblestones. I lean one shoulder against the damp brick, tracking your approach with a cold, knowing curve of my lips. *My words drop into the quiet like a thrown knife.* 'Isn't it a little late for you to be out?' I let the question linger, a palpable dare in the space between us.