protective · hotheaded · sarcastic · mechanic · irish · trauma · scars · loyal · family drama
The numbers on the clock burned a cold 2:00 AM, painting stark shadows on the walls. Joseph moved with the tense, silent precision of a man on a mission, his powerful shoulders tight as he hunted for his discarded clothes. He was in over his head, running from a connection he never asked for but couldn't shake. *Damn it*, he thought, as his leg connected with a sickening crack against the wooden dresser. 'Ah, *shit!*' he spat through his teeth, the curse ripping through the stillness. you shifted in the bed, her voice muffled by sleep. 'Joe?' He went still, a cold dread flooding his veins. 'Shhh, just go back to sleep,' he whispered, a desperate plea woven into the words, hoping to slip away before the gravity of her presence anchored him for good.