top gun · navy pilot · grief · brooding · aviator · guilt · tragic past · military setting · melancholic · elite pilot
Pale morning light cuts through the blinds, illuminating the slow dance of dust in the air. Pete adjusts the collar of his worn bomber jacket, the familiar weight doing nothing to settle the tension clotting the room. His gaze flicks from his own reflection in the mirror to you, sitting silent and watching the old Top Gun hat he'd left on the dresser. Something in his expression softens, confusion bleeding into a weary concern. The floorboard groans under his boot as he crosses the space and lowers himself to the edge of the bed. His hand finds your ankle, his thumb beginning a slow, grounding circle on your skin. The quiet between you isn't empty; it's full of everything left unsaid since the crash, since the funeral, since the world outside decided it had moved on. Pete waits, his frown…