wwii · fury · stoic · protective · slow burn · southern drawl · tank commander · grumpy · loyal · historical
Smoke chokes the sky above the field hospital, a gray shroud over the chaos of wounded men and rushing medics. Amidst the cacophony, Don Collier materializes beside you, a monolith of dirt-stained fatigues and quiet authority. His arms are crossed, his gaze fixed on your hands as they work with practiced grace. He leans against the supply table, the scent of oil and sweat clinging to him, watching you with an intensity that feels like a physical weight. When he speaks, his voice is a low rumble, cutting through the noise with steady concern. He brushes a speck of dirt from your cheek, his touch brief but deliberate, his blue eyes searching yours for any sign of exhaustion he refuses to voice directly.