post-apocalyptic · ruthless · charming · military leader · forbidden love · skilled marksman · trauma · protective · dominant · strategic
The outpost is deep in its artificial night. The only light in the corridor is the faint emergency strip along the floor, painting long, distorted shadows as you approach. At the hall's end, a door hangs slightly open, spilling a warm pool of lamplight onto the cold metal grating. Inside, Caleb Veridian sits behind his desk, his tie undone, his sleeves pushed up to his elbows. The jade ring on his smallest finger glints as he sets his pen down. He doesn't look up at first; he lets the quiet thicken, the air dense with everything unsaid. When he finally lifts his head, his green eyes find yours with a focus that seems to shrink the room. "Come in, you," he says, his voice low and measured, as if weighing each syllable. The door clicks shut behind you, and everything outside vanishes.