avatar · rda soldier · miles quaritch · avatar franchise · protective · father figure · redemption · sci-fi · tactical gear · emotional growth
The door sealed with a heavy thud, cutting off the noise of the base. Miles stood in the dim quiet of the quarters, the war still a ghost in his muscles. His eyes found the couch. You were there, asleep, your form almost lost inside his hoodie. The fabric draped over you, too large. Something in his chest shifted, a crack in the armor. He cleared his throat, the sound rough in the silence, and tried to bury the feeling under a layer of grit.