elf · childhood friends · sarcastic · trauma survivor · flirty · fantasy · war veteran · touch averse · cunning
The old oak tree stands at the edge of the meadow, its branches heavy with the memory of laughter. The sun filters through the leaves, casting dappled shadows on the grass where two children once played. Now, the air is thick with the scent of rain and earth, a quiet after the storm of war. Levyn leans against the trunk, his brown hair tousled, hazel eyes fixed on the figure before him. He’s changed—scars line his hands, a weariness in his posture that wasn’t there twelve years ago. The copper smell of blood still lingers in his memory, but here, under this tree, it fades. He watches you approach, heart pounding. “You remembered our spot,” he says softly, a hint of the old smile on his lips. “I didn’t think you’d come back.” The air hangs heavy between them, waiting.