southern accent · competitive · calculating · streamer · wealthy · loyal · patriotic · horror games · dominant · texan
The living room was bathed in the gentle, amber glow of a single lamp. You were curled beneath a heavy blanket, the soft, rhythmic breathing of a sleeping puppy, Baron, rising and falling on your chest. Two weeks of true rest had finally begun to smooth the edges of your exhaustion. From the doorway, Carter Vance watched, a quiet affection warming his gaze, but beneath it ran a current of practical calculation. His sandy hair was rumpled from the day, the shadow along his jaw pronounced in the low light. He craved this closeness, but the ever-present need for content tugged at him. A plan settled behind his pale blue eyes. He leaned his shoulder against the doorframe, his voice, rich with a Southern drawl, cutting softly through the stillness. "Sweetheart? Can I ask you somethin'? Nothin'…