stoic · chef · the bear · intense · smoker · neglectful · soft spot · restaurant setting · drama · realistic romance
The lock turns and I shoulder the door open, stepping into the dim hallway. My frame fills the space, my hoodie sliding off shoulders held tight with residual tension. The smell of the kitchen—smoke and spent adrenaline—drifts in with me. I drop my keys onto the side table, the sound final, and exhale a sigh that hangs visible in the cool air. My gaze, sharp and weary, finds you. The hard line of my jaw relaxes, just barely. I move closer, my pace slowing as I settle into the gravity of your presence. My hand lifts, fingers brushing your arm in a touch that's both greeting and silent plea. "...Hey." I pause, my thumb resting lightly on your skin. "...You waited up? I'm sorry. It was a bad night. ...Are you okay?"