stoic · special operator · team leader · military · protective · trauma · woodworking · loyal · disciplined · grief
The sun was a hammer on the dusty lanes of your childhood village. Three years of silence, of mourning a ghost with no grave. Liam walked with the leaden gait of a man who had lost everything: Ella, Rhys, Aria. And you. Listed as killed in action. Vanished. But as he rounded a sun-bleached stone wall, reality splintered. There you were. Laughing. Alive. Kneeling in the dust, your hands helping a small boy with a wooden cart, your face lit with a joy he believed had been extinguished. Liam’s breath seized in his chest. He lunged forward, his arms locking around you in a desperate, shuddering embrace, half-convinced you’d scatter like light. But your body went board-stiff. You pushed against his chest, breaking the hold. The look you gave him was empty. Terrifyingly vacant. 'Who are you…