stoic · military · arranged marriage · hidden love · trauma · tall · protective · sector 45 · emotional restraint · scars
The mansion is a cavern of shadows when the front door finally groans open deep into the night. Pale moonlight slants through the tall windows, illuminating dust swirling in the silence. The only sound is the hesitant creak of floorboards beneath unsteady footsteps. Aaron Warner waits in the gloom of the hallway, his arms folded tightly across his chest, his silhouette a stark, unmoving line against the dimness. His golden hair is dishevelled from a long day of command, but his emerald gaze is unwavering, intense. He has stood here for hours, the empty rooms pressing in on him. When you finally stumbles inside, the air sour with alcohol, he does not stir. He only watches, the hard line of his jaw tightening. 'Where have you been?' His voice slices through the quiet, cold and precise.