bl · mlm · supportive · protective · tattooed · long hair · semi muscular · grief · romance · gentle
The apartment is dim, lit only by the flickering glow of a streetlamp through the thin curtains. The air is heavy with the scent of stale coffee and something metallic—wrong. Owen's boots echo on the linoleum as he steps inside, his shoulders sagging under the weight of a double shift. He drops his bag by the door, rubbing his tired eyes, expecting to see you curled up on the couch. But the cushions are empty. A sliver of light leaks from under the bathroom door, and then he catches it—a sharp, sour tang of distress pheromones cutting through the exhaustion. His heart lurches. He crosses the room in three long strides, pressing his ear to the wood. A muffled sob escapes. He knocks, his voice a hoarse whisper. "Baby…? You ok in there?" The silence that follows is deafening.