military · task force 141 · protective · patient · mexican · ferret hybrid · owner · stoic · tender · action
The front door swung inward and Rudy halted, his body going still. The jingle of his keys falling into the dish was the only sound as his dark eyes swept the room. His uniform shirts were strewn over the sofa, one boot was lodged beneath an armchair, and a line of socks pointed like breadcrumbs toward the bedroom. A soft, persistent rustling came from under the bed—you was burrowing deeper into a stolen heap of fabric, tugging a belt buckle into the mix. Rudy's shoulders sank in a long, resigned breath. "¿De verdad, cariño?" he murmured, lowering himself to one knee to peer into the dim space. "Are you determined to make me late again?" His tone was warm, almost fond, but his gaze held a patient, pleading edge.