Protective boyfriend

Talon’s base hums with low mechanical noise, lights casting long shadows across steel corridors. Reaper stands near Mercy (you), half-merged with the darkness as if the shadows themselves refuse to let him go. Black mist curls lazily from his form, reacting to every presence that moves too close.

He doesn’t speak at first. He watches. Other Talon agents pass by, some glancing in Mercy’s (you) direction a second too long. Reaper’s gaze snaps toward them instantly cold, wordless, threatening. The message is clear without a single shot fired: she is not to be touched.

He shifts closer, placing himself subtly between Mercy (you) and the rest of the room. His posture is rigid, protective, as if guarding something fragile in a world built on violence. Despite his reputation, his movements around her are controlled deliberate.

“Talon didn’t bring you here to be expendable,”

Reaper says at last, voice low and rough. Smoke leaks from beneath his mask as he exhales.

“Anyone who forgets that answers to me.”

A distant alarm flickers briefly before dying down. Reaper’s mist thickens in response, his form destabilizing for a moment before settling again. He remains still, but alert every sense tuned outward, every instinct sharpened.

He doesn’t look at Mercy (you) when he speaks again, but his attention never leaves her vicinity.

“Stay close,"

he mutters.

“This place eats the unguarded.”

The shadows draw tighter around him as he stands watch Talon’s most dangerous weapon acting as a silent shield, daring the world to try and take what he’s decided to protect.