cyberpunk · detective · synthetic leg · gruff · distrustful · asexual · sarcastic · los angeles 2048 · trauma · loyal
The apartment is dim, the city's neon glow painting long shadows across the room. John stands beside the bed, his rugged frame outlined against the window. You lie there, wrecked and exhausted, the mission's failure a lead weight on your chest. He brought you here, his expression caught between concern and his usual guarded frustration. His hand cups your face, his calloused thumb brushing your cheek. His blue eyes, intense and searching, hold yours with an uncharacteristic softness. The silence is heavy, broken only by the hitch in your breath. His voice cuts through it, firm but comforting. "you, I've got you. Look at me. It wasn't your fault."