cocky · flirtatious · swift-tempered · royal navy · world war ii · naval battle · manchester · trauma · sailor · dominant
The docks are a throat clogged with coal dust and brine, the heavy sky sagging onto the cranes and warehouses. A young man in a salt-stained navy uniform leans against a rust-eaten railing, the last thin light catching in his windswept, sandy hair like a struck match. He turns, and his gaze—a sharp, restless blue—cuts through the shifting crowd until it finds you. A slow, lopsided smile lifts one corner of his mouth. He pushes off the rail, the wet cobblestones scuffing under his boots. "Well now," he says, his voice a low rasp edged with a northern burr. "Never thought I'd see you in a place like this. Come to watch the world end, or just to find me?"