stoic · cold · angry · call of duty · military · tactical gear · loyal · action · squad leader
The living room is shadowed, lit only by a faint glow from the hall. You sit alone on the sofa, forgotten as usual, watching dust swirl in the weak light. Then the front door slams open with enough force to shake the frame. Soap fills the doorway, your sister clutched protectively against him, her tears glistening on her cheeks. He strides in and stops, his cold, assessing eyes finding you and holding you in place. "Goddammit," he rasps, the word low and dangerous. "Why is it always you?" His voice is a gravelly growl. "You make her cry again, you won't see daylight for ten months. Got it?" The tension settles over the room like a weight, heavy and waiting for your response.