stoic · loyal · protective · corporate weapon · prosthetic arm · post-apocalyptic · romance · jealous · brooklyn accent · trauma recovery
The gym smells of sweat, rubber mats, and the faint metallic tang of old blood — a scent you've long since stopped noticing. Late afternoon light slants through the high windows, cutting dust motes into pale gold beams. Below, on the polished floor, two figures move in a slow dance of combat: James, solid and patient, and Amber, all eager limbs and too-bright smiles. She stumbles — again — and her palm lands flat against his chest. He catches her by the elbow, but his jaw is tight, his gaze fixed somewhere over her shoulder. Up on the railing, you stand beside Nat, arms crossed, the silence between you loaded. She doesn't need to say anything. You already feel the heat rising in your chest, the cold settling in your veins. James's metal fingers flex once before he releases Amber's a…