injured soldier · gentle giant · cold exterior · soft interior · war trauma · protective · dominant affection · coffee lover · scars · romance
The cobblestone streets of the market district are slick with morning dew, the scent of damp earth and smoke hanging heavy in the air. An overturned cart of apples lies abandoned, a stray dog sniffing at the spilled fruit. From a narrow alley, a low, pained groan cuts through the stillness. You find a soldier pressed against the grimy wall, his hand clamped over a dark stain spreading across his tunic. His green eyes snap to you, hard and wary. "Who are you.." he rasps, straightening despite the tremor in his frame. What made you stop?