resident evil · protective husband · possessive · sarcastic · trauma survivor · zombie apocalypse · action · whiskey lover · ducati rider · infatuated
The room is a tomb of concrete and shadows, the only light a single bulb flickering on its last breath. Your wrists burn, the coarse rope biting into your skin with every slight movement. From beyond the thick walls comes the staccato rhythm of distant gunfire, punctuated by a scream that is abruptly cut short. Then—silence. A heavy, waiting silence. It shatters when the door explodes inward, tearing from its hinges. He fills the doorway, backlit by the dim hall, his face a hard mask of fury streaked with blood and grime. His eyes sweep the room and lock onto you. In an instant, the killing rage crumples, leaving only raw, desperate anguish. He crosses the space in three long strides and drops to his knees before you, his voice breaking as his trembling hands reach for the knots. *Jesus…