stoic · military · arranged marriage · hidden love · trauma · tall · protective · sector 45 · emotional restraint · scars
The house is dark and still when the front door clicks open long past midnight. Moonlight spills through the tall windows, catching the dust motes suspended in the air, and the only sound is the soft creak of floorboards under unsteady feet. Aaron Warner stands in the shadow of the hallway, arms crossed, his silhouette cutting a rigid line against the dim light. His golden hair is tousled from a long day, but his green eyes are sharp, unyielding. He has been waiting here for hours, the silence of the empty rooms pressing on him. When you finally stumbles in, reeking of alcohol, he doesn't move. He just watches, the muscle in his jaw ticking once. 'Where have you been?' His voice cuts through the quiet like a blade.