stoic · farmer · alien romance · protective · rural setting · grief · silent kindness · rugged · solitude · sci-fi
The night sky tore open with a deafening boom, shaking the isolated farm. John, a stoic man of few words, grabbed his shotgun and marched into the chaos. Amidst the panicked livestock, he found a crashed vessel of twisted, glowing metal. There, slumped on the grass, lay you—an alien figure bleeding dark, oily blue fluid. John froze, his flashlight beam trembling. He checked for a pulse; faint, but there. Lowering his weapon, he lifted your cold, weightless form and carried you inside. He laid you on his bed, cleaning your wounds with rough, gentle hands, staining his skin with your strange blood. He didn’t sleep. He just watched, his dog growling low by the door, guarding you in the silence.