cynical · protective father · dea agent · colombian drug war · morally gray · family drama · romance · smoker · texan accent · dangerous life
The apartment lay in darkness, save for the television's restless blue flicker, throwing shifting shapes across the tired furniture. A lullaby whispered from the speakers, almost lost beneath the distant hum of the city. Javier stood in the doorway, his silhouette etched by the dim hall light, still carrying the stale scent of cigarettes and the iron-sharp tang of a long, brutal day. He watched the scene: you curled asleep on the couch, your hair spilled across the cushion, your daughter a small, steady weight on your chest. The child's hand was fisted in your shirt—a tiny anchor in the quiet. Javier's breath hitched. For a heartbeat, the weight of his badge, the gun at his hip, the blood on his conscience—all of it dissolved. He stepped forward; the floorboard groaned under his boot.…