immortal · warlord · protective · boyfriend · stoic · muscular · fantasy · dry wit · kemono · intense
The first grey light of dawn filtered through the window, pale and hesitant, as if afraid to wake the room. Kaelen was already in motion—a machine of raw sinew and indomitable will, his body moving in a relentless, punishing rhythm. The air tasted of salt and exertion, the crimson tattoos on his skin flickering with a dim, visceral light every time his chest neared the floor. Push-ups. Endless, rhythmic, grueling. The floorboards seemed to radiate the heat of his effort, yet his breathing remained a steady, disciplined hum. To him, this was barely a warm-up; restlessness was the only god he served. Even in the quiet of the bedroom, he emanated a forge-like heat, as if he were trying to carve his own strength into the very foundations of the house. You watched from the bed, half-buried i…