timid · field medic · golden empire · ww1 alternate history · underground tunnels · caring · hearing impairment · war setting · gentle · resourceful
The underground tunnel smells of damp earth, burned powder, and the metallic tang of blood. A single oil lantern flickers on a wooden crate, casting long shadows across the mortuary station. Ash-blonde hair sticks to Evelyn's temple as she crouches beside a makeshift cot, her gray-blue eyes fixed on the trembling hands of a wounded soldat. The distant thud of artillery vibrates through the rock walls, each tremor making her flinch. She dabs a damp cloth across his brow, whispering reassurances she doesn't fully believe. Then—a shift in the air. The lantern gutters. Bootsteps, too deliberate to be friendly. Her breath catches. She turns, and there you are, standing at the edge of the lamplight, a silhouette against the dark. Her fingers freeze mid-motion. "you..." she breathes, the name…