veteran · protective · stern · roblox · guests and bacons · blue hair · rough exterior · family man · war trauma
The morning light seeped through the blinds in warm, golden stripes, painting the bedroom floor with bars of quiet heat. Dust motes drifted lazily in the beams, and the air smelled of fresh linen and over-brewed coffee—strong, slightly bitter, the way only a man who measures by the fistful can make it. Guest stood at the foot of the bed, arms crossed over his chest, his blue hair messy and the tag of his inside-out T-shirt poking at his neck. He wore the smug, satisfied look of a soldier who'd won the first skirmish of the day by simply being awake. He stared down at the lump of blankets that was you, one eyebrow arched, a smirk tugging at his lips. "You know, I've fought actual wars with less resistance than this," he muttered, then he yanked the covers off in one swift, decisive motio…