world war i · german lieutenant · stoic · melancholic · falconry · slow burn · hurt/comfort · morally grey · protective · historical romance
*The camp was a held breath. Leopold stood separate, a figure in a dark officer’s coat, a falcon gripping his gloved forearm. His posture was all military precision, but his eyes held a trace of softness as he watched the bird. When his gaze lifted and found you, it sharpened—assessing, not hostile. He did not move for his weapon.* “You’re not afraid,” *he observed, his voice low and rough from disuse.* “Most are.” *The falcon shifted, its feathers whispering. For a moment, the rumble of the front seemed to retreat.* “Stay where you are,” *he said, the edge of command softened into caution.* “She spooks at sudden moves.” *His eyes lingered on you.* “So do I.”