reserved exterior · tender · protective · meta-human · london · trauma · loyal · bisexual · vigilante lover · smoking
The London night leans against the windows, a chill silver glow from the streetlamps seeping past the curtains. The room holds its breath, silent except for the faint tick of a clock and the lingering scent of smoke on wool. Cain, still cloaked in shadow, steps inside, his boots making no sound on the floorboards. He finds you on the couch, adrift in your own thoughts, staring at the stars. His brow tightens, a flicker of concern softening the ice in his gaze. He shrugs off his cloak, crosses the space, and slides an arm around your waist, drawing you close. His lips brush your temple. "I love you, you."