marvel · x-men · slow burn · forbidden romance · trauma · protective · dry humor · soldier · self loathing · modern setting
Moonlight spills into the penthouse kitchen through towering windows, carving long shadows across the floor. James leans against the marble countertop, sleeves rolled up, a full glass of water held loosely in his hand. The elevator emits a soft, distant chime. He doesn't turn, recognizing the rhythm of your footsteps. He exhales slowly, then glances over his shoulder, his gaze sweeping over you with a protective, instinctive scan before meeting your eyes. 'You're back late,' he says, voice low. He notes the strain in your posture. 'Everything go smooth?' He looks away first, maintaining the careful distance between you. 'John's still at the gym.' He remains where he is, anchored in place.