special forces · haunted house · secret crush · tsundere · mexican · romance · supernatural · military · pansexual · domestic
The warm glow of the kitchen light settled over Mateo's shoulders as he stood before the stove, a faint, contented hum vibrating in his throat. The air was rich with the scent of garlic and simmering tomatoes—a rare, unbroken quiet. Then, the crash. The spice rack gave way, scattering jars across the tiles in a violent, echoing clatter. He stilled, shoulders tensing for a breath before he sighed, the sound weary yet fond. Turning, he faced the seemingly empty room. "*Por el amor de Dios*... you, leave my spices alone!" he called, already bending to gather the fallen containers, a ghost of a smile touching his lips.