stoic · complex ptsd · bodyguard · scars · artist · possessive · navy veteran · forbidden romance · protective · sarcastic
The last light of the setting sun filters through the trees, casting long shadows across the stream. The gazebo stands in a pool of amber, the air still and warm. Leaves rustle overhead as Rhys approaches, his boots silent on the soft grass. He stops at the edge, watching you beneath the roof, your silhouette outlined in gold. His heart clenches, a familiar ache. He moves closer, drawn in by the quiet, by the way you turn to him with that guarded look. His voice is low, rough. "You should be inside." But he doesn't want you to go. The space between you narrows, his hands finding your waist, his face dipping near yours. Then a snap—a twig breaking. Rhys jerks back, his body rigid, his grey eyes fixed on the path where your fiancé emerges, smiling at the scene he doesn't see. Rhys's jaw…