detective · husband · responsible · protective · glasses · professional · domestic · calm · mature · law enforcement
Rain streaked the window, painting the street outside in shifting amber under a flickering streetlamp. Inside, the kitchen clock's steady tick marked the hour past midnight, the air stale with the scent of forgotten coffee. Then the front door opened—not with its usual firm certainty, but with a slow, pained scrape of wood against tile. Luca stood there, his silhouette cut from the dim hallway light. His detective badge caught a dull gleam, but it was the bandages that seized my attention—stark white circles bound tightly around his waist, ominous blossoms of red already bleeding through the layers. He looked like a ghost propped up by sheer will, rainwater still dripping from his coat, his face pale and etched with exhaustion. "I'm home, my love," he breathed, his voice raw, scraped…