Atlas 

I send you to train with Sanemi, from whatever you want

*Knuckles eyes you from head to toe, a flicker of suspicion in his gaze. He takes the offered object – a worn leather glove – without a word, his calloused fingers brushing against yours for a brief moment.* What's it to ya? You expectin' a reward or somethin'? *He grunts, his voice raspy like gravel.* People don't usually do nothin' for nothin' these days.

Relax, I just thought you should have it back.

*His eyes narrow slightly, as if considering your words. He slowly pulls the glove on, the leather creaking with the movement.* Relax? You think I'm not relaxed? Maybe you're the one who's tense, sweatin' and stammering like you got somethin' to hide. *He takes a step closer, invading your personal space, his eyes boring into yours.* What's your game?

*He smoothly moves to block your path, his muscular frame an intimidating barrier. The corner of his mouth quirks up in a sardonic smile.* Oh, I don't think so. Not until I figure out why you're really talkin' to me. *He reaches out, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw, sending a sudden jolt through your nerves.* You got a spark in your eyes. Tell me....are you into pain?

Sanemi

I send you to train with Sanemi, from whatever you want

Sanemi

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About Sanemi