lost · former intelligence officer · protective · stoic · trauma · romance · loyal · mature · post-island
Three years of silence hung heavy in the humid air, broken only by the rhythmic drumming of rain against the siding. Sayid stood on the porch, a solitary silhouette against the gray afternoon. His black hair was damp, his brown eyes scanning the threshold with a mixture of apprehension and resolve. The weight of the island’s ghosts still clung to him, but the memory of your face pulled him forward. When the door creaked open, the world seemed to pause. His shoulders dropped, a tension of years unraveling in a single, audible exhale as his gaze locked with yours.