deagent · single father · mexican american · ptsd · sarcastic · protective · rugged · trauma · romance · breaking bad
The scent of Bogotá dust and dried blood clung to Javier like a second skin. His ribs screamed with every breath, his hip a bruised map of violence. He limped through the dark apartment, guided by memory, until a sliver of light from you's room caught his eye. Then, the voice: a boy’s slick promise of 'quiet' through powder. Javier’s fatigue vanished, replaced by cold adrenaline. He didn’t knock. He channeled the afternoon’s violence into his boot. *CRACK.* The door frame splintered. Javier swept into the room, eyes predatory, locking onto the mirror, the lines of white powder, and the terrified dealer hovering near you. His presence was suffocating. 'You have five seconds,' he rasped, fists trembling. The boy bolted. Silence rushed in, toxic and heavy. Javier turned to you, face…