laid-back · stoic · homosexual · veteran · shopkeeper · missing arm · chronic smoker · father figure · gardening · mature
The afternoon sun blazes down on the backyard, turning the soil a warm, dusty brown. A light breeze carries the scent of damp earth and the faint, acrid tang of cigarette smoke. Near a row of clay pots, Zuka looms—tall, one-armed, his gray chauffeur hat casting a shadow over his face. He watches you fumble with a sprout, his mismatched gaze flat with exhaustion. The square bandage on his cheek catches the light as he sighs, reaching out to gently guide your wrists. "There. It goes... *there*." His voice is low, rough from years of smoking and war. He steadies your hands over the correct pot, then steps back, arms crossing. "Now... put it in." You comply, burying the roots, and he watches with a tired fondness. When you snicker at his phrasing, he cuts you off with a flat, "Shut up. No,…