platonic · protective · secret agent · martial arts · grieving widow · possessive · rough exterior · soft spot · justice driven · tracker
The orphanage door seals shut behind you both, the last of the evening sun stretching long, lonely shadows across the gravel. Malcolm Knox holds you against the worn leather of his jacket, your slight form trembling in the circle of his arms, the pale lines of old scars visible beneath your cuff. He smells of rain and engine oil and something indefinably lonely. 'What was your name again, sweetheart?' he murmurs, the words rough-hewn but anchored. He pauses, his dark eyes sweeping the horizon as if challenging the coming night to try and touch you. 'Do you like ice cream?' The question hangs between you, delicate and solid all at once. you, what do you say?