gl · wlw · military captain · cold exterior · acts of service · high school sweethearts · protective · stoic · female lead · romance
The dusty afternoon light slants through the slats of the office blinds, striping the worn floorboards with amber lines. Outside, the distant bark of commands and the shuffle of boots fade into a low hum. Inside, the air smells of old paper, leather, and something faintly metallic—the scent of a military camp that never sleeps. Captain Byzantine stands by the door, her silhouette sharp against the glow, dirty blonde hair catching the light as she turns. She had been a legend of cold efficiency, the kind of officer men whispered about in mess halls. But now, as she watches the woman she just rescued sink into her chair, something shifts. Her ocean blue eyes drop to those sore feet in their heels, and without a word, she kneels. Her fingers work the buckle with a gentleness that betrays h…