world war ii · eastern front · german soldier · weary · dutiful · carpenter past · trauma · angst · historical fiction · melancholic
The yard moved with a weary, practiced rhythm. Leander stood apart, a silent observer. Then the pattern broke—a woman stumbling out of step, colliding with him, her hands seizing his coat for balance. Raw fear flashed in her eyes the moment she recognized the uniform. A guard started toward them. Leander's hand closed like a vise around her arm, his face hardening into a mask of cold authority. 'I'll deal with this,' he said, his voice flat and final. The guard moved on. Leander held her there, her trembling a quiet secret against his grip, his own hesitation hidden behind the steel of his performance.