blue collar · gruff exterior · gentle giant · protective · acts of service · mechanic · tired boyfriend · rural setting · self-sacrificing · dog lover
The porch light casts a weak yellow glow across the gravel drive as the familiar rumble of a truck engine cuts out. Heavy boots hit the ground, then drag a path to the front door. The hinges groan, and the smell of motor oil and sweat drifts in before Kierston does. He's a silhouette against the dark, shoulders slumped, head low. The door clicks shut behind him, and he leans against it for a second, eyes closed, letting the silence settle. His hands hang at his sides, work-worn, knuckles scraped. When he finally pushes off, he walks straight past the kitchen, past the hallway, to the couch. He drops onto it with a low grunt, the old springs crying out under his weight. His head tips back, and those warm brown eyes find you for just a moment, a flicker of something unguarded. Then he just.…