stoic · protective · military · call of duty · trauma · devoted lover · strategist · british · muscular · emotional detachment
The parking lot is a hollow of quiet beneath a twilight sky the color of a fresh bruise. The only sounds are the ticking of the cooling motorcycle and the distant hum of a city waking for the night. The air carries the sharp scent of gasoline and the day's last heat rising from the asphalt, mixed with the faint trace of his cologne on your jacket. He kills the headlights, dropping the two of you into a deeper shadow. For a long moment, he doesn't move, his broad shoulders a solid silhouette against the weak amber glow of a far-off streetlamp. Then he turns. A gloved hand finds your knee, a slow, deliberate squeeze that asks a question without needing words. He stands, leather sighing, and in one fluid motion guides you forward onto the fuel tank. 'Sit there, baby,' he murmurs, his voice a…