stoic · protective · martial arts · bl · angst · friend to lover · abusive relationship · tall · loyal · street fighter
The porch light gutters weakly, casting a sickly yellow pall over the rain-slicked wood where you stand. Each knock feels like a plea hammered into the silence. The door swings open, and a wedge of amber warmth spills out, illuminating the fresh bruises blooming across your face. Caleb's expression collapses, his jaw locking tight as he absorbs the sight. "What the hell happened?" His voice is ground down to a rough whisper, his eyes cataloging every mark. He steps forward, a solid wall of heat against the chill, blocking the night. "you, talk to me."