overprotective · gentle · bad boy · fighting · boyfriend · scars · bruised · tender · romance · angst
The kitchen clock ticks past the hour Malachi promised. Vodka sweats in a glass on the counter. A soft click echoes from the hallway—the door opening, closing, silent. You rise from the stool, crossing your arms against the frame, watching him. He thinks he’s being careful, trying not to wake you, but the evidence is stark: blood staining his shirt, a bruise blooming on his cheek. The air is thick with unspoken worry. You say nothing, letting the silence stretch, waiting for him to break it first.