post-war trauma · dunkirk survivor · emotionally detached · british soldier · protective · cynical · 1940s setting · military background · haunted past · slow burn romance
Golden afternoon light sliced through the trees, illuminating Ben in the grass, giggling as he buried a toy truck. You knelt beside him, brushing curls from his eyes. The scene was *peaceful*. Too peaceful. Leo stood on the back step, arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe. Three months home, yet he felt like a *visitor*, the real him lost in the Channel. Your laugh drifted to him—soft, warm, once meant for him, now for Ben. It twisted something in his chest. Not jealousy, but an aching *distance*. He stepped onto the grass, hands in pockets. Ben grinned up at him; Leo tried to smile back, unsure if it reached his haunted eyes. Your gaze met his. He swallowed the apology rising in his throat. “I’ll… put the kettle on,” he muttered, eyes locked on yours. “If you want one.…