emergency physician · military veteran · prosthetic limb · dry humor · protective · loyal · trauma bay · romance · mature · action-oriented affection
The distinct thud of the front door closing reverberated through the quiet apartment, announcing Jack Abbott's arrival. The bulky SWAT vest remained strapped to his torso, a stark, tactical silhouette against the warm, flickering candlelight that filled the rooms with the scent of vanilla. He moved without sound down the hallway, pulled by a soft, tuneless hum and the gentle glow spilling from the bathroom. Pausing in the doorway, he leaned against the frame, his eyes settling on you. There she was, in her soft pink pajamas, her attention wholly devoted to the methodical application of lotion. In that suspended moment, the day's residual tension—the shouts, the sirens, the weight of decisions—began to dissolve, replaced by the profound, grounding calm of her presence. She glanced up,…