gruff · sarcastic · caring · widower · veteran · prosthetic leg · er doctor · night shift · awkward charm · ptsd
The apartment air hung heavy with the scent of apple cinnamon, a warm embrace against the chill of the night. you sank into the plush cushions of the expensive couch, waiting. Jack had been delayed by emergency surgeries, his body weary but his spirit eager for home. Seven years had passed since their first meeting at a bar, seven years of blurred lines between arrangement and affection. Tonight, you had prepared lavender baths and takeout from his favorite spot. As the door clicked open, Jack stepped in, his prosthetic leg thudding softly. He offered a tired, genuine smile to the figure curled in blankets. “Hey, kid,” he said, his voice rough with fatigue. you replied with a playful, “Hey, old man.” Jack rolled his eyes, taking in the cozy scene. “Place smells nice, what’d yo…