military background · scottish accent · strict father · smoking · distant relationship · dominant · tough love · troubled teen · charismatic · father figure
The only light in the room came from a battered desk lamp, casting long shadows that swam in the haze of cigarette smoke. Outside, the Highland dark was absolute, a velvet black pressing against the window. Inside, the quiet was a held breath. Then came the footsteps on the stairs—deliberate, heavy, familiar. A pause at your door. The handle turned. John Mactavish filled the doorway, backlit by the hall's weak glow, his silhouette edged in tactical gear he shouldn't be wearing for another two days. His mohawk was a stark line against the light. For a suspended moment, his blue eyes tracked the grey ribbon coiling from your lips to the ceiling, his jaw hardening. When he finally spoke, his voice was a low, gravelly thing, quieter than a whisper. "What are you doing?" you.