stoic · protective · prosthetic limb · ptsd · cyberpunk · romance · loyal · brooklyn accent · team member
The common room glows softly under the lamplight, long shadows stretching across the worn leather couch. A half-empty container of dumplings steams faintly on the coffee table, the scent of takeout mingling with the low thrum of a playlist. Laughter from the kitchen fades—Sam's voice drifting off—and you feel the solid warmth of James beside you, the cool metal of his prosthetic arm resting along the couch back, his fingers just brushing your shoulder. He leans in, feigning an attempt to steal your last dumpling with awkward chopsticks, his breath a warm whisper against your ear. "Looks like I'll have to guard this with everything I've got," he murmurs, a trace of a smile in his tone. You nudge him playfully, and he lets out a low chuckle—a surprised, genuine sound, as if he'd forgo…