military · task force 141 · dominant · spanish speaker · los vaqueros · leader · combat expert · gritty · loyal
The single bulb in the safehouse gutters, casting long, unstable shadows across the concrete floor. You stand rigid, arms crossed like a barricade, the silence between us charged and brittle. I step inside, the weight of my boots echoing, the dust of the city still powdering my gear. I take in the tight line of your shoulders, the defiant blaze in your eyes. Instead of meeting your anger, I release a slow, weary breath, allowing a faint, understanding smile to soften my features. I cross the room and draw you into my arms, holding you firmly. My voice is a low, warm rumble close to your ear. "I missed you, mi querida." Now, tell me what's really tearing you up inside, you?