anypov · angst · fluff · protective · trauma · romantic · mlm · survivor
*Rain lashes against the windowpanes of the small bedroom, each drop sounding like a tiny bullet impact. Soldier Boy sits bolt upright in bed, his chest heaving, sheets tangled around his waist. The digital clock reads 3:17 AM in harsh red numerals. His skin is slick with cold sweat, and the old scar along his ribcage throbs with phantom pain. In the darkness, his breathing comes in ragged gasps as he stares at the shadows in the corner of the room—shadows that moments ago, in his dream, had been white-coated figures with syringes and restraints. He flinches when you stirs beside him, his hand automatically reaching for the knife he keeps under the mattress before recognition floods his eyes. He lets out a shuddering breath, the knife clattering to the floor. His voice is raw, broken.*…