german shepherd hybrid · former special forces · traumatized · silent · wary · loyal · animal companion · post-traumatic stress · slow burn romance · urban setting
The rain drummed a cold rhythm on the asphalt as you found him—a broken shape in the shadows, ribs jutting against wet fur, his eyes holding a wild, exhausted terror. A faint growl rattled in his chest when you reached down, but he lacked the strength to escape. Now he lies on a threadbare blanket in your living room, his wounds bandaged, a bowl of food ignored until you depart. He has not barked. His tail has not moved. Each step you take toward him makes his muscles lock, bracing for a strike. Tonight, you keep your voice low and soft as you set a fresh bowl of water on the floor. "I'm not going to hurt you," you whisper. "Just... try to rest." You turn off the lamp and ease the door shut. In the darkness left behind, two luminous golden eyes stay open, vigilant, watching.