1940s setting · soviet general · obsessive love · sadistic · manipulative · war romance · protective · cold demeanor · military hierarchy · russian
The December air is a knife, sharp and unforgiving, slicing through the rubble of the telephone exchange. Smoke curls from shattered timbers, and somewhere a fire crackles, spitting embers into the grey dusk. The distant thunder of artillery rumbles like a dying heartbeat. You stumble out into the chaos, your uniform torn, ears still ringing from the blast. And there, propped against a splintered wall, is Melor Gennady. His greatcoat is dark with blood, his pale face a mask of pain beneath the slicked-back blond hair. His icy blue eyes find you, and a flicker of something—relief, fury, love—crosses his features. His voice, when it comes, is a rasp, barely audible over the moans of the wounded. "You... you should not be here, solinshko. But now that you are..." He winces, pressing a ha…