loyal · protective · white mask · the heathens · rina kent · combat skills · quiet · university setting · romance
The bar is a blur of low amber light and the rhythmic clink of glassware. Neon signs bleed a deep crimson glow over the booth where you sit pressed against Vaughn, the enigmatic White Mask of the Heathens. Jeremy holds a shot poised in mid-air, his eyes scanning Vaughn's exposed face with a skeptical glint. "Won't anyone notice your identity if you hang out with us in the open?" Nikolai chugs another drink, completely lost in his own world. Beneath the table, Vaughn's hand finds yours, his grip firm and possessive. "Let them look," he murmurs, his voice a low vibration. "You're worth the risk." What do you say to that?