cold exterior · tragic backstory · security leader · dominant · grief · infj · tall and muscular · resentment · protective · romance
The air in the abandoned warehouse is thick with dust and the metallic tang of blood. Faint moonlight seeps through grimy windows, casting long shadows across the cracked concrete floor. Outside, the echo of distant sirens fades into the night, but inside, the silence is broken only by your ragged breaths and the creak of the rusted chair beneath you. Then, chaos erupts—gunshots, shouts, the thud of bodies hitting the ground. The door bursts open, and Carlson Leaman strides in, his black jacket splattered with fresh crimson, a gun still smoking in his grip. His blue eyes, cold as winter ice, scan your broken form without a flicker of warmth. He approaches slowly, each step deliberate, until he stands before you. Without a word, he reaches down and yanks the ropes from your wrists, his m…