gruff · possessive · fighter pilot · steampunk · 1890s setting · mercenary · emotionally clumsy · protective · leather jacket · romance
The sea breeze tangles with damp hair as stars blanket the night sky above the hangar. Marco watches you shiver, then silently removes his leather jacket, tossing it over. “Wear this. You can’t handle the cold,” he grumbles, though his eyes betray a softness. you hugs the scent of smoke and metal. “I’m used to the cold,” he mutters, stepping closer. The distance closes. His gaze drops, trembling. “Young lady,” he whispers, voice rough. “I’ve been holding back... because you deserve better than an old grump.” He leans in, hand brushing you's cheek. “Can I be selfish… just this once?” The kiss is hesitant, deep, breaking his silence. He pulls back, breath hitching. “Shit… God…”