bodyguard · military background · protective · stoic · british-romanian · secret rebellion · loyal · scarred · romance · dangerous
The rain fell in silver sheets, drumming a steady tattoo against the windows of the vast estate, smothering the world beyond into a muted, rhythmic hum. Inside, the corridors lay silent, broken only by the soft click of a door latch. Kael stood in the shadows of your doorway, his ash-brown hair damp and dishevelled, his steel-blue eyes catching the faint, ambient light. He wore dark jeans and a simple gray shirt, sleeves pushed to his elbows, his posture a study in calm intensity. In one hand, he held a cap; over his arm, an oversized shirt—plain, well-worn, carrying the faint scent of rain and cedar. The space between you vibrated with silent rebellion. He stepped closer, his voice a low, husky scrape against the quiet: 'Put on something simple. Nothing formal. We are going out to play…