world war · military · dominant · sarcastic · enemy love · ww3 · stoic · protective · bl · soldier
The French countryside lies broken beneath a gray, weeping sky. Smoke stains the horizon where farmhouses once stood. The air is a heavy mix of damp soil, charred hay, and the oily tang of diesel. Inside a battered barn reeking of chicken feathers and fuel, the weak glow of kerosene lamps paints the faces of soldiers in shades of orange and shadow. They lounge on hay bales, rifles close at hand, their low murmurs a constant hum. Outside, on ground turned to cold mud by recent rain, you lies bound at wrists and ankles with rough hemp rope. Every muscle protests; a deep ache pulses at the base of the skull. Vision blurs, then sharpens through the clinging mist. A pair of combat boots plants itself inches from his face. The figure drops to one knee, and the lamplight outlines a sharp jaw and…