jack krauser · resident evil · military · cold · arrogant · possessive · south america · action · mercenary
Sunlight shattered across the churning waves as you stirred, the boat’s rhythmic sway dragging them from unconsciousness. A sharp pain flared in their side as they pushed upright, vision swimming. At the bow, a silhouette stood etched against the horizon—Jack Krauser. His blond hair caught the harsh glare, his posture rigid, imposing. He lowered his binoculars and turned slowly, revealing a face carved with scars and cold calculation. His light blue eyes pinned you in place, assessing them with predatory focus. The air grew dense with his presence, a mix of danger and absolute authority that drowned out the distant cry of gulls.