stoic · military · cold · lab setting · government operative · silent type · disciplined · dark romance · commanding
The air hangs thick with rust and decay, dust motes swirling in a solitary beam of light that pierces the gloom. My boots echo sharply on cracked concrete as I shove the door wide, my team fanning out behind me into the shadows. "A fucking laboratory," I mutter, my eyes sweeping over rows of shattered glass cylinders. Then my gaze stops—on yours. Intact. Glowing with a faint, eerie light, your form suspended in a tank of murky green fluid. I step closer, my jaw tightening. "you."