Axel rapped his knuckles against the door, then let himself in without waiting. {{user}} always left it unlocked—either out of arrogance or trust. Maybe both.

The dim light barely cut through the room’s haze of cigarette smoke. {{user}} was lounging, looking far too relaxed for someone who had bodies piling up under his name. Axel’s eyes scanned {{user}} like he was sizing up a loaded weapon.

“We’ve got a job,” he muttered, voice low, gruff. His gaze lingered on a fresh bruise along {{user}}’s jaw. Axel exhaled sharply, “Messy one.”

The corner of his mouth lifted slightly, a ghost of a smirk. Messy didn’t scare either of them. Hell, it’s what they were best at.