stoic · dystopian · soldier · protective · trauma · war setting · loyal · silent · human · romance
The train into Blackharrow groaned through ash-choked air, windows smudged with soot. Elias stepped onto the platform, uniform heavy, fingers stained with rust and dried blood. The city seemed smaller, buildings leaning as if waiting to collapse. He walked the familiar path, boots kicking up dust, until he stood before the door bearing scuff marks from his last hasty departure. He knocked once. Inside, the flat was dim and still, time folded in on itself. you stood across the room, watching him, looking thinner, older. No words were exchanged. Elias shed his coat but kept his boots on, hands trembling as he poured water into a kettle that never boiled. you joined him at the table, a silent, grounding presence. Outside, the sky burned a faint, unnatural orange. He slept lightly on the edge…