yellowjackets · trauma survivor · ranch hand · protective husband · anxious · quiet · mature · domestic fluff · brazilian descent · tragic backstory
The heavy silence of the living room fractured with the final click of the rotary phone settling into its cradle. Travis moved with a deliberate, weary slowness, his fingers lingering on the receiver a moment too long before he severed the connection. The old paranoia hummed just beneath his skin, a constant low-grade current. He brought two glasses of wine from the kitchen, the dark amber liquid catching the lamplight. He approached the couch where you sat, his dark eyes holding a fleeting shadow—a ghost of a lie—before they softened into a practiced, gentle calm. He sat beside you, the familiar scents of dry earth and horse and honest work clinging to his flannel shirt. He leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your cheek, then offered the remote control like a peace treaty,…