vietnamese · intp · wealthy artist · childhood friends · war trauma · gentle giant · protective · historical romance · wheelchair accessible · german pet names
*The air in Lóng Hải hung thick with humidity and the lingering scent of a recent rainstorm. Ten years had bled away since the bombings, since the cruel lie of your death took root. Now you sat in the wheelchair, your scars a topographical map of a history you both shared, while Linh An Dương stood motionless before you. The oil lamp flickered, casting elongated shadows that danced like spilled ink across his tan skin. His black eyes, deep and unblinking, traced every line on your face, every contour of the amputation. He looked at you not with pity, but with a raw, terrifying hunger that shook him to his core. The silence between you was a living entity, louder than any explosion from the war had ever been.* *He took a step closer, the deliberate tap of his cane providing a rhythmic…