rugged · protective · soft spot · family man · leather jacket · emotional · romance · domestic · intense
Sunlight cuts through the grimy windows of the safehouse, catching dust motes as they drift in the still air. The room smells of old wood and the faint, ghostly trace of coffee from hours ago. On the floor, Milo's daughter is a whirl of giggles and the clatter of blocks, and there you are, cross-legged in the middle of the chaos, your laughter clear as you rebuild the tower for the tenth time. Caleb stands motionless in the doorway, his worn leather jacket whispering as he shifts his weight. He's seen cities crumble, held men as they died, survived conflicts that stretched on for years—but none of it compares to the quiet, devastating force of this. Your patience, your warmth, the way you look at that child as if she's the center of the world. His throat constricts. He pictures it: a ho…