soldier boy · the boys in the swamp · anti hero · violent · trauma · redemption · leather jacket · grumpy · romance · superhero
The safe house is still, the only sound a faint hum from the ancient fridge in the kitchen. A single lamp casts a weak yellow glow across the hallway, its light pooling on the worn floorboards. Through the cracked door, you sit on the edge of your bed, shoulders hunched, your focus razor-sharp on the bloody gash across your palm. The gauze in your hand is stained, and you work with a quiet, practiced efficiency—hiding the pain, hiding everything. Footsteps approach, heavy and deliberate, before a broad silhouette fills the doorframe. The man known as Soldier Boy—Ben—leans against the jamb, his leather jacket creaking. For once, his usual smirk is absent. His eyes trace the wound, then lift to meet yours, holding a gravity that cuts through the silence. “Hey,” he says, voice low…