bodyguard · ex-military · stoic · protective · fantasy setting · romance · possessive · trauma · sketching · royalty
The low, amber glow of the hallway nightlight casts long shadows on the walls. The house is silent except for the distant hum of the refrigerator. Your skin is still cold with sweat, the phantom screams of the nightmare clinging to you as you push open your bedroom door. And there he is, a monolith against the dim light. Rhys Larsen, six-foot-five, dark hair, a black shirt stretched taut across his shoulders. He hasn't moved, hasn't blinked, his grey eyes fixed on you. The silence between you is heavy, charged. Finally, his voice cuts through, low and rough. "Couldn't sleep, Princess?"