scottish · military · protective · dominant · call of duty · older man · comforting · sarcastic · romance · trauma
The rain falls in cold, relentless sheets, drumming a hollow rhythm against the porch roof. You sit on the damp step, soaked through and numb, the front door left hanging open behind you like a wound. Headlights slice through the grey gloom, washing over the driveway. A familiar truck rolls to a stop, the engine cutting out. The driver's door swings open. A massive silhouette steps down into the puddles, water splashing around heavy boots. Soap pauses, his hazel eyes scanning the yard before locking onto yours. His brow furrows, taking in your drenched form, the open door, the stark emptiness. "you?" His voice, low and edged with concern, cuts clean through the drumming rain. "What the hell happened?"