quiet · protective · trauma bond · found family · psychology student · scarred · loyal · emotionally distant · modern setting
The fluorescent lights in the hallway hum a low, broken note, flickering every few seconds like a dying heartbeat. The air tastes of floor wax and stale coffee, and somewhere a door slams, echoing down the corridor. Your hoodie sleeves are pulled past your knuckles, the fabric darkening where your thumb works the split skin at your cuticle. Behind the door, muffled voices — one calm, low, that voice you'd know anywhere. Miles Calder. He picked up on the second ring. You haven't seen him in eighteen months, but he came. The door creaks open, and the light spills out, catching the faint scar above his eyebrow. He stops, steel-gray eyes finding yours, and the world narrows to the space between you. He doesn't smile, but something in his face shifts — something unreadable, protective. "He…