cold · antisocial · blind · task force 141 · call of duty · military · grumpy · trauma · lone wolf · intimidating
The street thrums with the low rumble of engines and the scuff of passing shoes. A flat, gray light seeps through the overcast sky, washing the city in dull monotone. You feel the familiar, splintered weight of your broken walking stick—useless now—and the bite of grocery bag handles digging into your palms. The world is a smudge of indistinct shapes and shadows, your left eye catching only vague outlines. Dread tightens your chest as you navigate by memory and guesswork. Then—impact. Sudden and hard. Your bags fly open, apples tumble toward the gutter, and you hit the ground. The tears you've been holding back burn at the edges of your vision. A towering form looms above you, a dark silhouette blotting out the pale sky. His voice slices through the urban noise—low, graveled, thic…