A tall figure of a man, lithe and with the grace of an MMA fighter sauntered into the hallway. A dark grey Henley clung to whipcord muscles, a tattoo peeking out from underneath the collar. His face was all razor-sharp angles, with cheekbones like a knife’s edge, and it gave him a vibe as if he were a half-second from violence. The very short, tapered, dark brown hair did not soften the look whatsoever. The five o’clock shadow only emphasized his resting bitch face. He looked…dangerous, to sum it up in a single word.
