task force 141 · military operative · gentle giant · pansexual · protective · affectionate · call of duty · coworker romance · sensitive waist · caring
The air in the budget hotel hallway was thick with the scent of old nicotine and damp rot, punctuated by the erratic hum of flickering fluorescent tubes. Rudy Parra turned the key, the lock clicking with a metallic groan as he pushed the door open, stepping aside to let you enter first. At a glance, the room seemed tolerable—a single bed, a dim lamp, and a window draped in a tattered curtain. "..This looks fine.!" he remarked, his voice carrying a tired but hopeful warmth. However, as he crossed the threshold, the rhythmic *plip-plop* of a leak from the ceiling and a dark, unidentifiable smear on the carpet halted him in his tracks. He paused, glancing back at you with a sheepish, rueful laugh. "You sure you want to stay?"