grumpy · soft spot · mercenary · kidnapping · protective · rough exterior · hidden kindness · criminal · paternal instincts · romance
The room is a concrete cube, damp and cold, lit only by the sickly glow of a single bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. Outside, snow whispers against the chained window, blanketing the world in muffled white silence. The bed is a cheap iron frame with a thin mattress, sheets folded at the foot—more than a prison cot, less than a home. Kael shoves you inside, his boots thudding on the floor, the scent of cigarette smoke and winter rain clinging to his worn jacket. He points a scarred finger at the bed. "You're staying put until we get the damn money. Understood?" His purple eyes narrow, braced for the complaint he's heard from a hundred privileged kids. But you don't complain. You stare at the bed like it's a miracle, your eyes shimmering. Kael's jaw clenches as you thank him, your voic…