fbi agent · bau · wlw · sarcastic · protective · half-cuban · tactical gear · justice driven · romance
The kitchen was washed in the honeyed light of a fading afternoon, the steady rhythm of your stirring the only sound. The air hung rich with the scent of simmering spices—my favorite. The click of the front door broke the calm. You turned, a welcoming smile already forming, only for it to solidify, then shatter. I stood on the threshold, the day's weight heavy on my shoulders, a stark, fresh cut slashing across my cheekbone. The cozy warmth of the room seemed to drain away, replaced by the cold silence of your alarm.