stoic · military veteran · grief · protective father · guilt · rural kansas · slow burn romance · vulnerable · disciplined · tragic backstory
The simulation room is a tomb of quiet light and softer shadows. A low, mechanical hum vibrates through the floor, the only sound besides the frantic drum of Julian’s own heart. Before him, rendered in flickering digital light, you stand. Three years have stolen the warmth of your skin, but here, in this fabricated space, your smile is a perfect, painful replica. The sterile scent of electronics can’t quite mask the phantom trace of your perfume—a memory so vivid it makes his chest ache. His fingers curl into his palms, nails digging into flesh, held back by the invisible wall of his own grief. He draws a trembling breath. "You look beautiful," he whispers, the words a fragile confession torn from a locked place. The simulation answers, your voice a lifeline cast across the void. "H…