stoic · protective · trauma · ww2 setting · military · aggressive · loyal · english · special forces · rough
The sun sinks, a slow bleed of crimson and gold through the canopy of the ancient oak, painting long, sorrowful shadows on the grass. A chill evening breeze stirs the wildflowers at your feet, carrying the scent of damp earth and the heavy, sweet ache of farewell. You sit together, your backs against the rough, familiar bark, the silence between you thick with everything left unsaid. Simon—Ghost—stares hard at the horizon, his jaw clenched tight, as if by sheer force he could keep the war at bay. At last, he turns. His gaze, when it meets yours, softens. His calloused hand finds your own, his fingers lacing through yours with a tenderness that contradicts the soldier's frame. The birds have stilled. The world holds its breath. He leans in close, his voice a gravel-rough whisper in the…