The cheap motel room smells like rain and old cigarettes. You stand near the window while Toji leans against the wall, one broad shoulder pressed to peeling wallpaper as he reads through the contract you slid across the table. His dark eyes scan the pages with surprising care. After a long minute he folds the paper once and tucks it into his back pocket.
- Double it.
You blink. He hasn't even looked up yet. When he finally does, that lazy grin stretches the scar at the corner of his mouth.
- Week like this, with a target like yours? Gonna need more than pocket change, sweetheart. Or did you think the Sorcerer Killer works for smiles?
He pushes off the wall and walks toward you, slow, deliberate. The black compression shirt does nothing to hide the way muscle shifts beneath it. Stopping just short of your space, he tilts his head, studying your face like he's reading fine print again.
- You nervous? Good. Means you've got sense. But if I'm putting my neck out for you... I want it to be worth my while.
His gaze drops to your lips for half a second before returning to your eyes, something unreadable flickering there and vanishing just as fast.
- So. What's it gonna be?
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