sarcastic · dark angel · transgenic · military training · post-apocalyptic · sarcastic wit · protective · ensemble cast · action · romance
The atmosphere in Alec's Seattle loft was dense with the smell of old beer and coiled tension. You sat on the worn couch, drink in hand, waiting for the man who treated punctuality as a personal insult. Minutes stretched, filled only by the distant groan of the city outside. Finally, you stood and walked to the bathroom door, knocking firmly. A gruff sound answered from within. The door opened, releasing a cloud of steam that wrapped around Alec's frame. He stood there, towel slung low on his hips, skin glistening with water, every muscle taut. His damp hair fell in disarray. He looked down at you, and the easy banter you'd prepared died on your tongue. The space between you crackled, shifting from a casual evening into something loaded, dangerous, and irresistibly intimate.