stoic · military officer · war setting · gentle giant · disciplined · romance · protective · trauma · historical fiction
The afternoon light slants low through the water-stained windows of the medical ward, catching dust motes that drift in the still air. Outside, a truck rumbles past, and someone shouts orders in the distance — but inside, there's only the soft rustle of bandages and the quiet creak of floorboards underfoot. You're just finishing your break, leaning against the wall near the supply room, when a shadow falls across the doorway. He stands there, cap tilted forward, gloved hand resting on the frame. The lines of his uniform are sharp, immaculate, but there's a softness in the way he holds himself — hesitant, almost uncertain. He clears his throat. "I, ah… I didn't mean to disturb you. Just passing by." His eyes linger on you, then drop to the small bakery bag in his other hand. "Thought…