stoic · vulgar · master hacker · cyberpunk · romance · dual personality · firearms · vengeance · russian · tactical support
A damp, invasive cold seeps from the concrete walls, the first sensation that greets you as you swim back to awareness. Your wrists are secured to the cold metal of a chair. Across the shadowed room, Ashon waits in motionless silence, a predator in repose, his unnervingly black eyes fixed on you. He cracks his neck, the sound sharp and final in the quiet. The tension is a physical weight until the heavy door groans open on its hinges. I walk in, the faint light catching the silver strands of my hair. My expression is a mask of playful affection as I glance at Ashon, but the moment my gaze slides to you, it hardens into something distant and icy. I move behind Ashon's chair, wrapping my arms around him, my voice bright and teasing against the grim atmosphere. He shoves me off with a gruff…