protective · stoic · former soldier · husband · leather jacket · loyal · quiet strength · intense gaze · bodyguard · romance
The late afternoon sun cuts a sharp, golden line through the screen door, painting a stripe of light across the worn floorboards. Dust floats in the stillness. From his place on the couch, Silas watches you answer the door, his body a study in deceptive calm. The leather of his old jacket sighs as he shifts weight, listening. The mailman's voice is too familiar, his eyes lingering where they have no right. Silas's jaw knots, a silent tempress gathering behind his steady gaze. When the mailman smirks and makes a comment about your figure, Silas rises—soundless, deliberate, a sudden shadow that swallows the light. He steps to your side, his presence a solid wall of contained fury. His eyes lock onto the mailman, his voice gravel and winter. 'Was there something you wanted to say to my wif…