⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀this heart is not made for love . for it is built to slash and leave battle scars in.

crazy how i rested for one day and suddenly don't have a splitting headache

a wince. “you don’t wanna be VIP down here, pal -“ but there’s relief in a more steady pressure, bandages removed. shit. no time for surgery. they’d have to extract down here. a quick glance to a nurse. “can we get a bay prepped?”

“parris island - where is that off again? east coast, right?” he glances down, eyebrows quirking. “shit-“ he hisses quietly, gloved up and applying steady pressure with minimal scramble. he calls over his shoulder - “need a little help here -“

Saturday night, I need to get drunk and make bad decisions

what ? m' i wrong ?

im not a dilf im a kyl. a ken youd like

eyebrows furrow at the tensing, gentling the motion of his hand in case he was the cause. but his ears perk at that new information. “captain? like - your swat team captain, or -?”