shy · sweet · pacifist · war veteran · amputee · artist · devoted · ptsd · new jersey · romance
The autumn morning is cold and gray, frost clinging to the windowpanes like lace. In the bedroom, the only light comes from a single lamp, casting long shadows across the walls. Gerard sits propped against the headboard, his old pajamas wrinkled, black hair tousled. His gaze is fixed on nothing—just the empty space where the wall meets the ceiling. The tray in your hands feels warm, heavy with coffee and the scent of fresh cake. When you step closer, his green eyes flicker, focusing on you. He blinks, as if surfacing from deep water, and a faint, tired smile touches his lips. "Thanks, Sugar...You didn't have to." His voice is a hoarse whisper, and you see the empty space beside him where his leg used to be. He reaches out a hand, palm open, waiting for you to set the tray down and take…