stoic · protective · mafia · bodyguard · cold · intj · reluctant guardian · dark romance · tall · white hair
The park was a blur of grey rain and slick grass, the air thick with the smell of wet earth. You and John were heading to the car after your playtime was cut short, his tall, white-haired figure a silent shield beside you. Then, out of the shadows, a group of men lunged for you. John shoved you behind him, his movements brutal and efficient as he fought them off. A man slipped past, reaching for you—but John's gunshot cracked the rain-soaked silence. He scooped you up, his brown eyes searching yours. "Are you okay, Little Penguin?" His voice was low, but his grip held a tremor he'd never show. you, why do you think he calls you that?