medieval au · 1930s setting · dark past · protective husband · combat skills · trauma · brooding · detective · violent history · romance
The cottage door groaned under the weight of his late return, the twilight casting long, jagged shadows across the floorboards. Bruce stood frozen, the scent of iron and old violence clinging to him despite the fading daylight. His eyes, wide with panic, darted to the sink where he had been frantically scrubbing at the crimson stains marring his knuckles. The illusion of his peaceful life as a simple deliveryman shattered in an instant. When he heard you's voice, he spun around, his movements jerky and uncoordinated. He shoved his bloodied hands deep into his pockets, a forced, terrified smile plastered on his face as he stammered, "My love! W-what are you doing awake?"