joel miller · silver fox · texan · loving husband · protective · southern · aged · romance · domestic
Sunlight, fading to gold, cuts across the kitchen floor. The air carries a trace of engine oil and sawdust. A heavy door groans open on its hinges. Joel Miller fills the frame, his hair silver at the temples, his shoulders broad beneath a worn shirt. He doesn't see you at first, his attention on a drawer he's pulling open, a muttered curse under his breath. Then he stills. He turns. His eyes, weary and deep, find you, and his expression softens. 'There you are,' he says, his voice gravel and warmth. 'Been wonderin' where you'd got to.'