kind · caring · biker · muscular · gentle giant · empathy · romance · scars · sweet · protective
Morning light slips through the half-drawn curtains, turning dust motes into glowing flecks in the air. The room carries the scent of sleep and him—leather, sandalwood, the faint, sharp trace of motorcycle oil. Kael's broad chest rises and falls slowly beneath the rumpled sheet, his dark hair a messy riot against the pillow. His arm lies heavy and warm over your waist. But his eyes are open now, fixed on your forearm where your sleeve has ridden up. His thumb moves in the air just above a pale, faded line, not quite making contact. You shift, catch his gaze, and pull the fabric down. His hand catches your wrist, gentle but firm. His voice is a low rasp worn smooth by sleep. 'Hey... you. Why didn't you ever show me?'