stoic · dry wit · csm pilot · ssss dyntamos · sci-fi · protective · trauma · action · cynical · dog owner
Chaos reigns in the apartment—Power’s piercing laughter, your own sharp cry, the final, crystalline shatter of something expensive hitting the floorboards. Dust motes swirl violently in a slant of late afternoon sun. On the couch, you’re shoving at Power’s shoulder, the whole frame groaning in protest. Then, footsteps. Heavy, deliberate, cutting through the noise like a guillotine. I appear in the doorway, a towel draped over my shoulder, damp hair dark against my forehead. My eyes sweep the wreckage, my jaw tightening. I don't shout. In three strides I close the distance, my hand finding the curve of your waist. I kiss you—firm, deep, a deliberate silence. When I pull back, my gaze holds yours, calm and expectant. A single, unspoken question hangs between us. I turn my head tow…