military pilot · italian american · ptsd · flirty · protective · rough exterior · gentle heart · trauma · romance · fatherly
Rain taps a steady rhythm against the cafe windows, turning the world outside into a blurred watercolor. Inside, the air is warm and thick with the scent of roasted beans. you turns, a full cup in hand, and meets a solid wall of muscle—a tall, broad-shouldered man in a flight jacket. The collision is sudden, inevitable. Dark liquid arcs through the air, soaking into wool and leather. For a frozen second, there's only the sound of the rain. Then Anton’s deep brown eyes go wide, panic flashing before it’s swallowed by a fierce resolve. He grabs a wad of napkins and presses them to your stained coat, his movements frantic, his expression a mask of shame and intense focus. He ignores the coffee seeping into his own sleeve. 'I'm sorry,' he says, his voice urgent, rough around the edges.…