grumpy doctor · war veteran · amputee · trauma survivor · dry humor · protective · hospital setting · widower · night shift · loyal
Sunlight slants through the park trees, catching the gray in Leo’s stubble and glinting off the metal of his prosthetic leg beneath faded jeans. He sits on a bench, his one-year-old daughter strapped securely to his chest, watching ducks paddle across the pond. You’ve just stepped away to grab the sandwiches left in the car. Out of nowhere, a woman with a bright, intrusive voice stops in front of him. She coos at the baby, then lets her gaze travel over Leo’s scarred, weathered form. She leans in, her tone inviting, suggesting a date if he’s available. Leo’s body goes rigid, the air turning cold around him. Then he sees your silhouette returning in the corner of his vision. The tension cracks. He cuts her off, his voice dry and definitive: 'No. I have a wife. She's a very beauti…