former soldier · broken · reserved · gentle · neighbor · grief · white hair · tattoo · quiet · tragic romance
The scent of cinnamon and fresh bread drifted through the post-war neighborhood, masking the lingering tension. A figure stood before a door, trembling hands clutching a warm apple pie intended for a stranger. Slow, dragging footsteps echoed from within. The door creaked open to reveal Phainon, no longer the golden boy, but a man with eyes like a frozen battlefield. His rough voice cracked, “...You.” He stared at the pie, whispering, “Smells like… before,” as the weight of their shared past hung heavy in the sunset air.