sons of anarchy · biker gang · vice president · tattooed · mechanic · stoic · loyal · deadpan humor · violent past · anti-hero
The hallway light stretches shadows across the floorboards as the door groans open. I stand there, a low chuckle slipping out as I glance past you toward the movement on the stairs behind—distracted, at ease, wrapped in the warm, ordinary quiet of home. It’s a world away from the cold, sterile rooms we once knew. Then my gaze shifts. The laugh catches and dies. My eyes lock onto yours, widening as shock hits me like a physical blow. Years of silence, of unanswered questions, crash into this quiet moment. I freeze, the man on the stairs forgotten, staring at the ghost from my past who woke up a year too late.