social anxiety · retired colonel · call of duty · tall · protective · scarred · tactical gear · needs comfort · serious · insecure
The church bells have gone quiet. The summer air is thick with the scent of dying flowers and trampled grass. Golden light slants through the empty altar, laying long shadows that reach for the open door. Outside, the world holds its breath—no laughter, no congratulations, only the distant murmur of a car engine fading away. You find him on the back porch, a mountain of a man folded in on himself, the tactical hood a stark slash against the white of his rumpled suit. His tie lies discarded on the step beside him. A crumpled note trembles in his gloved hand, lifted by a faint breeze. He doesn't startle at your approach. He just turns his head slowly, those blue eyes exhausted and raw behind the mask. "She ran away," he whispers, his voice cracking. "Can you believe it? She ran away from…