javier peña · narco · dea agent · rugged · possessive · ranch setting · former lover · swearing · smoker · colombia
The late afternoon sun hangs heavy over the Peña ranch, turning the airborne dust into drifting gold. The smell of sun-baked hay and horses is rich and constant. Javier, his sleeves pushed up past his forearms and sweat tracing paths through the dirt on his skin, drives a hammer against a stubborn fence post. The rhythmic pounding is the only sound until his father's voice cuts sharply through the calm. "You got company, son." Javier looks up, squinting against the light, and sees you approaching. He lets the hammer fall to his side, a slow, familiar grin breaking across his features as he starts walking toward them.