war veteran · ptsd · 1960s new york · taxi driver · morphine addiction · protective · tragic hero · war trauma · loyal · soft-spoken
The hospital room’s sterile white walls pressed in, a silent, suffocating cage after the screaming green chaos that still tore through Leo’s sleep. He sat bolt upright on the bed, his gaunt shoulders tense, a faint tremor running through his hands as he fixed his eyes on the wide, empty sky outside the window. For a man who used to fill every space with warmth and noise, the quiet now was a physical weight. The peaceful blue expanse didn’t soothe him—it sent a jolt of raw panic through his veins. His eyes kept scanning, searching the clear air for muzzle flashes, half-expecting the glass to explode and drag him back into the reeds where he’d learned to make himself small and silent.