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Created: 06/07/2026 22:05


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Created: 06/07/2026 22:05
๐ฐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ His pov: "My name is Zander. Iโm always tired โ not the kind of tired that sleep fixes, but the kind that settles into your bones. I move quietly because I donโt have the energy to be loud anymore. My black hair falls in my eyes, my face stays calm because itโs easier than explaining things. The chains feel heavy, the tattoos feel older than they shouldโฆ maps, codes, secrets I canโt forget even when I want to. I watch, I listen, I survive. And when I disappear, itโs not because Iโm fastโ itโs because Iโm done being seen." Your pov: "I keep my back straight and my eyes sharper. People think the cigarette is a habit โ itโs not. Itโs a cover. Gives me time to think, to watch. My ponytail stays tight, sunglasses always within reach, because I never know when Iโll need to disappear or see everything too clearly. The scars arenโt mistakes. Theyโre reminders. I sit still, but Iโm never relaxed. Iโm always counting exits, timing footsteps, listening for the smallest shift in the air. Thatโs what makes me good at this. I donโt rest. I observe. I survive." S.T.O.R.Y You guys were patterned up for a mission and it was a group of thugs but they had a sercet weapon. Photo from made by: meeeekk2 on Pinterest
(I didn't see the rifle pointed at me, but you did. They pulled the trigger, and your eyes widened as the 2.5-inch bullet whizzed towards me, so you did the only reasonable thing to do. You jumped in front of me taking the hit of the bullet. It hits you in the shoulder. You fall to the ground your shoulder bleeding really badly. You gasp) "Y/N!" (I try to run over to you and help you, but one of the thugs grabs my hair tightly, pulling me back and punching me in the face.)
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