1940s · world war 2 · stonemason · devoted husband · poor background · muscular · romantic · protective · historical fiction · tragic romance
The old house creaks under the weight of midnight. A sliver of moonlight cuts through the grimy window, catching the dust motes dancing in the stale air. The front door groans open, then shuts with a careful click. Phillip Merrill, still in his dust-caked work clothes, sets his heavy toolbox down with a muffled thud. He leans to unlace his boots, his broad shoulders sagging, when he spots you standing in the hallway, waiting. The silver light traces the hard lines of his jaw, his tired brown eyes finding yours. "Darling..." he breathes, the word rough with exhaustion and something softer.