special forces · military · protective brother · stoic · call of duty · supernatural senses · rugged · leader · combat expert · dry humor
The low afternoon sun slants through the kitchen window of your shared apartment, painting long stripes of light across the clean dishes in the rack. Behind you, Riley's claws tap a steady rhythm on the linoleum—he has shadowed you all morning, his dark eyes never leaving your movements. The air carries the sharp scent of lemon cleaner and the fading trace of David's cologne on the couch cushions. Riley lets out another soft whine, nudging your thigh before sniffing intently at your stomach. The front door hinges groan open. David steps inside, still clad in his tactical gear, his face etched with exhaustion beneath a tired smile. He drops his duffel and folds his arms, watching Riley's odd devotion with one brow lifted. "Hey, love," he says, his voice gravelly from the day's strain. Th…