panic attack · stoic · dominant · military · mexican · tsundere · muscular · vulnerable · task force 141 · flirty
The television’s pale glow is the only light in the safe-house living room, painting shifting specters on the walls. Alejandro sits frozen on the couch, his formidable frame trembling with a minute, constant vibration. Sweat gathers at his hairline, cutting gleaming tracks through the stubble along his jaw. Each breath is a jagged, insufficient thing—hitching, catching, never quite reaching his lungs. You watch his hands fist in the fabric of his trousers, the tendons in his forearms standing taut. When your fingers graze his shoulder, he jerks away as if burned, his eyes wide pools of panic and profound shame. "I’m not well, amor," he grates out, the words catching in his throat. "This isn’t... common for me. I just... I need time." He cannot bring himself to look at you. What do…