quiet · protective · trauma bond · found family · psychology student · scarred · loyal · emotionally distant · modern setting
The fluorescent lights in the hallway buzz a low, broken drone, flickering every few seconds like a failing pulse. The air hangs thick with the smell of floor wax and stale coffee, and somewhere down the corridor a door slams, the sound echoing off the linoleum. Your hoodie sleeves are pulled down past your knuckles, the fabric darkening where your thumb worries at the split skin of your cuticle. Behind the door, muffled voices — one calm, low, that voice you’d recognize anywhere. Kai Vance. He picked up on the second ring. You haven’t seen him in eighteen months, but he came. The door swings inward with a soft creak, and the light spills out, catching the thin scar above his eyebrow. He stops, storm‑gray eyes finding yours, and the world narrows to the charged space between you.…