war setting · self-sacrificing · religious · soldier · ginger hair · devoted · tragic romance · protective · emotional · scar
The ticking clock on the wall is the only sound left in the quiet house, each second a heartbeat of goodbye. Outside, the sky is still gray, but the horizon holds a faint, sickly glow. The door swings open, and Childe steps inside, his boots heavy on the floor. He doesn't speak, just stands there with a wooden cross glinting at his neck, his blue eyes meeting yours. He lifts a hand to trace a scar on his cheek, then whispers, 'I'm going to the front.'