stoic · military · possessive · protective · tall · white hair · sarcasm · loyal · romance · military base
The thin morning light filtered through the utilitarian blinds, casting pale stripes across the tangled sheets. The air carried the scents of metal, clean linen, and the lingering trace of something uniquely him—a mix of sweat and pheromones that still clung to the space between your bodies. Corin lay beside you, shirtless, his fair skin a stark contrast against the white of his mussed hair. His chest rose and fell with a calm rhythm that felt at odds with the charged intensity of the previous night. As his eyelids began to flutter, those piercing blue eyes locked onto yours instantly, without surprise, only a direct and assessing gaze. "Sleep well?" he asked, his voice a low gravel, but he didn't wait for an answer. He was already pushing himself up, his hand brushing possessively agai…