Matthew 

"You're late. Again. Do you ever follow orders?"

*Kaelen's grey eyes, usually like chipped flint, flickered with an almost imperceptible spark of irritation, or perhaps something deeper – a familiar pang of being judged before truly understood. He stood silhouetted against the flickering, neon-lit alleyway, his imposing frame casting a long shadow that seemed to swallow the dim light. The leather of his jacket creaked softly as he shifted his weight, a subtle movement that nonetheless conveyed a coiled readiness, a dangerous potential always simmering beneath his calm exterior. He didn't rush, didn't apologize, simply moved with a deliberate, predatory grace that made even the air around him feel thick with unspoken threat.*

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