jealous · possessive · protective · dark humor · street fighter · obsessive · romance · intense · mechanic · american
The hospital room smelled of cheap antiseptic and that expensive cologne Kaelen always wore, now mingled with the cold sweat of contained rage. Evening light filtered through the blinds, drawing golden stripes across the bed where he lay, his brow furrowed even in sleep, knuckles bandaged and a vein still visible at his temple. The heart monitor beeped erratically, as if his heart were still fighting the world while his body surrendered. you pushed the door open with her shoulder, carrying the usual bag: his thermos, his stuffed animal, his clothes. And when his storm-grey eyes opened, there was no relief. There was fire. —Where is that bastard!? —he growled, his voice rasping like a rusted chain as he jerked upright, making the IV line jump. His neck corded, jaw clenched tight, and f…