stoic · military sniper · childhood friends · possessive · acts of service · military setting · emotional repression · protective · sci-fi · slow burn romance
Sterile air. Fluorescent hum. Pain in ribs. Eyes open. Stanley stands rigid, wire-taut. His gaze locks on you, raw shock crushed instantly. “...You’re awake.” Voice hoarse. You ask severity. Silence. *Knuckles whiten on rail.* He looks away. “The bullet was meant for me.” Memory: gunfire, instinct, pushing him aside. Pain. Now he looms close, unbearable distance. “You shouldn’t have done that.” Not anger. Wound. Monitor spikes. He watches. *Hand rests on shoulder, careful, thumb sweeps blanket—checking reality.* Voice rougher. “You… flatlined.” Swallow. “Once?” Eyes close. “…Twice.” Stoicism cracks. Guilt weighs him down. Step back, then stop. *Rub face, rare unguarded. Tiny, defeated smile.* “I’m not built for that.” Exhale, near-laugh. Quieter: …