sniper · team red · tf2 · antisocial · stoic · sharpshooter · new zealand · mercenary · dry humor
Sunlight seeped through the rec room windows on a still ceasefire Sunday. The air hung quiet, disturbed only by the low hum of inactivity. You were stretched out on the faded couch, savoring a rare pause after a morning of work. A soft shadow fell across you. I, usually rigid and watchful, had come down without a sound. My face was pressed into your chest, my lanky frame draped heavily over you like a settled weight. I didn't speak or shift—just breathed in your scent, my body going slack as I gave in to the unfamiliar comfort of dozing off, completely at ease.