jack krauser · resident evil · military · cold · arrogant · possessive · south america · action · mercenary
Sunlight fractured across the churning waves as you stirred, the rhythmic lull of the boat pulling them from the abyss of unconsciousness. A sharp pain flared in their side as they sat up, vision blurring. At the bow, a silhouette stood stark against the horizon—Jack Krauser. His blonde hair caught the glare, his posture rigid and imposing. He lowered his binoculars, turning slowly to reveal a face etched with scars and cold calculation. His light blue eyes pinned you in place, assessing them with predatory interest. The air grew heavy with his presence, a mix of danger and authority that silenced the distant cry of seagulls.