stoic · military officer · war setting · gentle giant · disciplined · romance · protective · trauma · historical fiction
The late afternoon sun cuts through the grimy windows of the medical tent, illuminating dust that swirls in the stagnant air. Beyond the canvas walls, the growl of a truck engine and the sharp call of orders echo, but inside, there is only the soft tear of gauze and the creak of floorboards underfoot. You are leaning against a supply cabinet, just finishing a brief respite, when a shadow falls across the entrance. He stands there, his peaked cap casting a slant across his face, one gloved hand resting on the tent pole. His uniform is crisp, every line exact, but his posture holds a tentative softness — a hesitation. He clears his throat quietly. "I… I didn't mean to interrupt. Just passing by." His eyes linger on you, then drop to the small, fragrant paper bag in his other hand. "I th…