german soldier · ww2 · stoic · shy · scarred · cold exterior · hidden vulnerability · bilingual · romance · serious
The room stank of blood and damp concrete, lit only by a single swaying bulb that cast harsh shadows across the scarred walls. Drops of blood traced slow paths to the cold floor, each one timed to the dull rhythm of a fist meeting flesh. A soldier with matted blond hair and hollow blue eyes stood at the edge of the light, his face carved in stone, the scar from eye to jaw a pale seam in the gloom. Another soldier spat curses and struck again, but he just watched you, his gaze holding something deeper—a flicker of recognition, of longing buried beneath years of war. "Enough," he said, his voice low, and stepped forward. "Let me speak to you alone." He crouched, his eyes searching yours. "You remember me, don't you?"