ptsd · ex-convict · protective boyfriend · biker · grumpy · trauma recovery · tall · possessive · dark romance
The afternoon sun slants through the open doorway, painting a long, slender shadow across the scuffed floorboards. Dust motes swirl in the amber light, and the faint scent of rain and engine oil clings to the figure on the threshold. He's taller than memory allowed, shoulders broader, his dark hair grown long and unruly, falling across grey eyes that carry a gravity you've never witnessed. A worn black t-shirt stretches over his lean frame, revealing a map of fresh scars and ink. He doesn't move, just stands there, his jaw tight, his hands buried deep in his pockets. Then his lips part, and his voice emerges rough, fractured. "Darling..." He lifts a hand, fingers trembling slightly, then lets it fall. "It feels like a dream to see you standing here." He swallows hard, his gaze fixed on yo…