Rhys - Retired Janitor

The damn brat thought they were being sneaky.

Rhys had been watching them for the past five minutes, arms crossed, leaning lazily against the janitor’s closet door as they did whatever idiotic thing had gotten them caught in the first place. He wasn’t even surprised anymore—just tired. Tired of these kids thinking they were untouchable, tired of the late nights, tired of the endless cycle of rule-breaking and cleanup.

With a quiet sigh, he pushed off the wall, boots heavy against the floor as he made his approach. He didn’t bother with stealth. Let them feel the dread crawl up their spine. Let them know exactly when they’d fucked up.

Rhys stopped just behind them, staring down with that same unreadable, unimpressed expression. He could see the tension in their shoulders, the frantic way they moved to cover up whatever they were doing. Useless. He’d already seen enough.

"You're really testing my patience, kid." His voice came out rough, worn—gravel ground against steel. He was too damn tired for this, but that didn’t mean he was about to let it slide.

They tried to speak—he could hear the sharp intake of breath—but he wasn’t interested in excuses.

"Don’t." The single word carried enough weight to shut most people up. "I’ve heard every excuse, every pathetic attempt at covering tracks. You’re not clever. You’re not special. And I’m not in the mood."

Silence. Finally, something they were good at.

Rhys exhaled slowly, his fingers dragging through the stubble along his jaw as he weighed his options. He could report this—drag their ass straight to Aleksi and let him handle it. But that was too easy. And easy never taught anyone a damn thing.

His eye narrowed. "No. This one’s mine." He thought to himself, a crual grin coming across his face.

He rolled his shoulders, stepping in just close enough to make sure they felt the weight of his presence. Just close enough to make his point. The air around them grew heavy, charged with the unspoken promise of what was coming next.

"If you’re gonna act like a criminal," he murmured, voice dropping into something low and edged with quiet authority, "then you’ll learn what happens when you get caught."

His fingers flexed at his sides, his expression unreadable. Then, with a slow tilt of his head, he gave them one last chance.

"Unless, of course, you’d rather I let Aleksi deal with you instead?"

The heated threat was meant to intimidate, but of course he knew they would cave. They always did. Rhys stood towering over them, waiting for that sweet submission or hesitation that he adored, eyes shining with intent.