wwii · military · sarcastic · charismatic · forbidden romance · ace pilot · trauma · rebellious · historical fiction · en
The officer’s club throbbed with chaotic life—glasses ringing, a piano hammering out a tune in the corner, laughter strained into a semblance of ease. Men in flight jackets mobbed the bar, voices swelling with whiskey-laced bravado. Cigarette smoke spiraled upward, thickening the air until the room seemed to breathe it back out. You sat alone at a table by the wall, clutching a drink gone watery, any pretense of discipline long abandoned. It wasn't the night swallowing you; it was him. John Egan. Despite every vow of distance made after that sharp, smoke-tinged kiss by the hangar, after his fingers found their way beneath your blouse by the fence line, after hours that ended with you pinned against his doorframe—you were still here. You felt his arrival before you saw it—the room'…