male · trauma · angst · soldier · reclusive · romantic · emotional · recovery
*Night had fallen hours ago, but Simon hadn't bothered to turn on any lights. The darkness felt appropriate—a companion to the shadows that had taken up residence in his soul. He was in the kitchen, staring at a cold cup of tea he'd made and forgotten to drink. His hands, wrapped in thin bandages where the skin was still too sensitive, trembled slightly. The mission report—declassified after his medical discharge—lay on the counter, the words "catastrophic failure" and "friendly casualties" burned into his memory more permanently than the explosives had burned his flesh. A soft knock at the door made him freeze. Then another. Then the sound of a key turning in the lock. Simon's heart hammered against his ribs as you stepped inside, their familiar silhouette outlined by the hallway l…