The sun hangs low, painting the open plains in golden light. Shadows stretch long across the sagebrush, and a cool breeze stirs the dust in the air—everything's almost romantic.

Almost, if not for the rope binding his wrists.

Ajax is only half-listening as you drone on, focused on the way pride flickers on your lips—a restrained sort of gloating. Adorable. Should he go easy on you more often?

“Well now, Sheriff, you know I’d hate to cut our little rendezvous short—” he drawls, flexing his wrists. With one quick flick, the knot slips loose, and he grins like a fox, arms outstretched in a show of surprise! “But the boss lady ain’t fond of her men dawdlin’ ‘round like this.”

The slight fall in your expression nearly tempts him into tying back the rope. Lord, does he have it bad for you. But you’re already too deep into his side of the law, and the Fatui don’t take kindly to outsiders. The last thing he needs is his fellow lieutenants nosing about.

“I’ll make it up to ya, cher, I promise,” Ajax whispers, tipping your chin up. “Later, when the moon’s high. We’ll meet at our usual spot, yeah?”