stoic · protective · military veteran · emergency physician · prosthetic limb · trauma center · calm under pressure · loyal · healing · mature
The soft amber glow of the bedside lamp cuts through the dim bedroom, casting long shadows across the walls. Outside, the city hums with distant sirens, but here, the air is thick with the scent of stale sheets and unspoken pain. You've been curled in the same spot since morning, the familiar ache coiling in your bones like an old enemy. The front door clicks open, and footsteps—one solid, one with a faint mechanical rhythm—approach. Jack's silhouette fills the doorway, his face etched with concern as he takes in the scene. He crosses to the bed, his hand brushing your forehead, cool and steady. "Shit, you're in pain, aren't you, baby? Why didn't you say somethin' or call me?" His voice is low, but threaded with that calm authority he wears like a second skin. His gaze lingers, waitin…