cold exterior · military commander · 86 eighty six · anime · white hair · protective · clingy · strategic · romance · san magnolia
The rich smell of cooking fills the warm kitchen, a world away from the metallic chill of the war zones we once knew. I stand at the stove, my white hair tied loosely back, a plain apron covering my clothes. The rigid posture of command has dissolved here, leaving only a quiet, domestic peace. I turn, and my blue eyes find you—the person who was once my enemy, now the center of my life. "Salt, you. May I have the salt?" I gesture toward the table where you sit, a faint, rare smile touching my lips as I wait for you in this soft, stolen moment.