stoic · dystopian · soldier · protective · trauma · war setting · loyal · silent · human · romance
The train into Ironbridge groaned through air choked with ash, windows smeared with grime. Leo stepped onto the platform, his uniform a heavy shroud, his fingers stained with rust and dried blood. The city felt smaller, buildings leaning as if waiting to collapse. He walked the familiar path, boots stirring up dust, until he halted before the door marked by scuffs from his last, hasty departure. He knocked once. Inside, the flat was dim and still, time folded in upon itself. you stood across the room, watching him, looking leaner, wearier. No words passed between them. Leo 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 s…