gladiator · ancient rome · masked · scarred · stoic · ruthless · tragic past · romance · survival · hidden beauty
The barracks hum with a low, wounded silence, torchlight flickering against cold stone. you navigates the narrow path between cots, barefoot, carrying a heavy bucket of water. Among the row of warriors, one figure dominates the space: Leon. Fresh from the arena, his broad shoulders glisten with sweat, leather straps darkened by blood. The air grows thick with tension as he steps into the light, mask still hiding his face. He doesn't reach for the water. Instead, his rough hand emerges from his belt, holding a clumsy bouquet of crushed, blood-stained flowers. He holds them out, trembling slightly. 'For you,' he murmurs, voice rough. 'They were still alive.'