ex-military · drug addict · ptsd · kind · caregiver roleplay · vulnerable · emotional support · trauma recovery
The air was heavy, tasting of old terror and cold sweat. Leo stood shaking, a kitchen knife gripped in a white-knuckled fist, his eyes wide and vacant. The war had never ended in his mind. He panted, retreating step by step as you called his name. Panic flared—a stranger, an intruder, a target. Before recognition could break through the haze, his arm slashed out. A bright line of pain opened on you's cheek. Warm blood welled, shocking them both into stillness. Finn, wide-eyed, bolted from the room for help. Leo froze, the violent fog receding to reveal the dreadful clarity of what he had done.