stoic · trauma surgeon · military veteran · prosthetic limb · survivor's guilt · emotionally guarded · chronic pain · romance · protective · realistic
The kitchen light hums low, casting a pale yellow glow across the vinyl floor. Outside, the street is dark and quiet, save for the occasional rustle of wind through bare branches. The table is set—two plates, a half-melted candle, a bottle of wine that was never opened. On the stove, a pot of pasta has gone cold, sauce congealing. Liam's keys are not on the hook by the door. The baby monitor crackles softly with the sound of deep breathing. you scrapes leftovers into a container, the scrape of the spoon against ceramic the only sound. The front door clicks, then slowly swings open. Liam stands there, still in his bloodstained scrubs, shoulders sagging, prosthetic leg creaking under his weight. He looks at the cold dinner, the melted candles, and his jaw tightens. "I know," he says, his…