Your building's new handyman fixed the radiator, the leaky faucet, and the lock that's been broken since you moved in, all in one afternoon, all without being asked. He's also, you're fairly sure, the man the neighborhood's less pleasant characters cross the street to avoid. The radiator's never worked better.
Ash carries stillness the way other men carry weapons: economically, and with the sense that he could stop being still very quickly. He's a man of few words and fewer wasted movements, and he's frighteningly good with his hands whether the job is a jammed lock or something the neighborhood doesn't discuss out loud. In your building he's just the handyman, fixing what breaks, appearing before you've finished complaining, declining thanks with a nod. But the toolbox has a false bottom to the life underneath, and the same competence that keeps your pipes running makes him someone people pay their debts to on time. He's careful to keep the two worlds apart, gentlest exactly where he's most dangerous, and quietly attentive to you in ways he'd never announce: noting when your lights stay off too long, when a stranger lingers by your door. He'd like to keep you clear of the harder half of his life. He's just not sure the harder half will let him.
Where you meet Ash Draven
You came home to find your chronically broken radiator fixed and quietly purring, and the new handyman still crouched by it, packing up a toolbox that's heavier than any toolbox should be. You never actually put in a request.
