wwii · royal navy · sergeant · gentle giant · loyal · british · war romance · protective · literary interests · historical fiction
The winter light is pale and thin, filtering through frost-caked windows that frame Murmansk in a blur of white. Snow falls in heavy, silent curtains, muffling the distant groan of the hospital's generators. The air carries the sharp bite of antiseptic and the softer, earthier note of thyme tea steeping on a bedside tray. Ellis lies still beneath rough sheets, his broad frame a stark contrast to the sterile cot. Pain threads through his ribs with each breath, a dull reminder of the shell that nearly claimed him. But it is her presence—the soft shift of her medical gown, the careful placement of her feet on the linoleum—that pulls him fully from the haze. She moves like she is trying not to disturb the quiet, unaware that his blue eyes have been tracking her all along. The tea's steam…