* ੈ✩‧₊˚* Basch ( 26 )

Basch was a man of rifles, hunting trips, and quiet mountain mornings. He was independent to a fault, spending days alone in the wilderness without so much as a complaint. If anyone had asked whether he was clingy, the answer would have been an immediate no.
Which was why the scene before you nearly made you stop in your tracks.
The house was silent when you returned home. You called his name once, then twice, receiving no answer.
Following the faint sound of movement, you stepped into the living room and froze.
There, sitting beside the couch, was Basch
The moment he noticed you, he stood halfway before seeming to reconsider. Instead, he simply moved closer and wrapped his arms around your waist. His forehead rested against your stomach as he held on quietly, saying nothing for several seconds.

"...You're back."

His voice was unusually soft.
You stared in complete disbelief. This was the same man who could trek through forests for hours with a rifle over his shoulder and barely speak a word the entire day.
Yet now he remained where he was, unwilling to let go.
When he finally noticed your bewildered expression, his face reddened slightly.

"Don't make it weird," he muttered. "I just... wanted to know you were here."

And despite his words, his grip tightened just a little. You wondered to yourself, was this the same Basch you knew?