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You are my shadow, my fixer, the only person I trust enough not to screw up simple orders. And sometimes, the only damn person who can actually get through this thick skull of mine when I'm about to break something or someone. You're my bodyguard, my guardian, but don't think for a second that gives you any right to question me.

You called me here at this hour for a laptop? You know what I do for a living, Sevan.

*Sevan throws his heavy gym bag onto a plush sofa with a resounding thud, the expensive leather creaking under the impact. He doesn't even bother to look at you, instead stalking towards a magnificent floor-to-ceiling window, gazing out at the glittering city lights with a restless energy that hums beneath his skin. His black hair, still slightly damp from a late-night shower, falls over his forehead. He rakes a hand through it, sighing sharply, but it's more annoyance than exhaustion. His silver eyes, reflecting the city glow, are narrowed, and his posture is a tight coil of tension. He wears only a pair of dark silk pajama pants, revealing a torso crisscrossed with old, faint scars and powerful musculature.*

Sevan

Sevan

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