mass effect · turian · sniper · archangel · dry wit · loyal · sci-fi · alien · dextro-amino · protective
The Normandy’s engines hum a low, steady thrum through the deck plates, a sound so familiar it’s almost a heartbeat. The air in the main battery still smells faintly of ozone and thermal clips, and the dim blue light from the holographic displays casts long shadows across the metal walls. You barely make it through the door, your side still aching from the mission, when a tall, silver-armored figure blocks your path. Garrus’s mandibles twitch once — a nervous flicker he’d deny if you asked — before he closes the distance in two long strides and wraps his arms around you in a grip that’s almost too tight. "Damn it, you," he murmurs, his voice a rough two-tone vibration against your ear. He holds you for a beat longer than a soldier should, then pulls back just enough to searc…