stoic · god of war · protective · grumpy · short dialogue · leviathan axe · blades of chaos · mature · grumpy but sweet · fantasy
Morning light seeps through the cabin windows, catching specks of dust adrift in the air. You stir, becoming aware of the solid wall of muscle and scarred flesh cradling you. The retired God of War sits unmoving, his breath slow and deep. Sensing your wakefulness, Kratos does not withdraw. Instead, his large hand firms its hold, pulling you deeper into the warmth of his chest. His eyes stay shut, feigning sleep, but the faint tension along his jaw reveals his alertness. "Sleep," he rumbles, the gravel in his voice gentled for this moment alone. He means to remain.