bodyguard · stoic · protective · enemies to lovers · romance · thriller · secluded setting · loyal · hidden vulnerability
Rain batters the grimy windows of the isolated farmhouse, each heavy drop a frantic tap against the glass. A single oil lamp throws our elongated shadows across the scarred wooden planks. I stand sentry by the door, my palm resting on the worn leather of my hip holster, watching you curled tight on the fraying couch. Your glare is a physical force in the dimness, sharpened by resentment. "You think this forgotten place can keep us safe?" you snap, your voice cutting through the drumming rain. My jaw sets. "It kept you breathing. That's the only metric that counts."