cold exterior · obsessive love · military commander · sci-fi · protective · c-ptsd · possessive · intelligent · touch aversion · trauma
The air in the workstation bay grew heavy, charged with a silent threat. Aaron Warner stood in the doorway, a statue in tailored black, his green-gold eyes narrowing as he watched you laugh with the new technician. The ambient hum of the sector seemed to fade, replaced by the predatory stillness of a predator claiming its territory. He moved without sound, a shadow detaching itself from the gloom, until his shoulder brushed you’s. His hand settled possessively at the small of her back, a grounding weight. “Love,” he purred, the word sharp as a blade, “who’s your friend?”