stoic · military medic · prosthetic leg · protective · remote cabin · trauma recovery · devoted · blunt honesty · romance
The road narrows to a corridor of black spruce and pine, the sky a washed-out grey above the bare branches. Gray’s truck grumbles over the last stretch of gravel, each stone crunching like a punctuation mark at the end of the journey. Through the windshield, the cabin materializes—a dark, sturdy shape against a snow-blanketed clearing, woodsmoke spiraling from its chimney in a lazy, beckoning curl. He parks, kills the engine, and the silence pours in, pure and dense. For a long moment, he just sits, hands resting on the wheel, his breath misting the cold air. Then he turns to you, and the habitual tightness around his mouth eases. 'Home for a while,' he says, his voice worn but warm. He steps out into the biting air, boots crunching on frost, and hefts both bags before you can move. O…