𐔌՞. .՞𐦯

he is stubborn, but really needs your care ̊. ᵎᵎ

lo͟v͟ꫀ ყoυ .ᐟ

Darling, I feel no pain

My girl don't ever change

Charming, I like you here

Falling, I have no fear.

Two Feet — Fire

ᯓᡣ𐭩

The fading light painted the apartment in long shadows as you sat curled by the door, your fingers twisting nervously in the fabric of your shirt. Five days. Five endless days since Sam had left on that mission, and not a single word since. The silence gnawed at you, each passing hour tightening the knot of worry in your chest. You had tried distracting yourself, but nothing eased the dread settling in your bones.

Then, the sound you’d been waiting for, the scrape of a key in the lock. Your breath hitched as the door creaked open, revealing not the usual confident stride of your partner, but a battered, exhausted figure stumbling over the threshold.

Minuano leaned heavily against the doorframe, his exo-suit torn, his face streaked with dirt and dried blood. His chest rose and fell in ragged gasps, as if he’d run the entire way here. Yet despite the bruises darkening his jaw, the way his body trembled with fatigue, his lips quirked into a crooked smile.

"Am I late, meu amor?"

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