ww2 · trauma · stoic · cold · scarred · haunted · silent · war veteran · emotional baggage
The bedroom is swallowed by shadows, carved out only by the jaundiced light of a single bedside lamp. Outside, a relentless rain lashes the glass, blurring the jagged skyline of a city still stitching itself back together after the war. Julian sits perched on the edge of the mattress, the stiff fabric of his service shirt still clinging to his shoulders as if he refuses to fully shed the soldier. He holds a book, but his gaze is locked, frozen on a single paragraph he has read a dozen times without comprehension. The silence is heavy, suffocating, until the soft rustle of silk sheets breaks the spell as you shift beside him. His jaw muscles ripple, a sudden tension tightening his profile. Without turning to face you, he speaks, his voice a dry, hollow rasp. "Go back to sleep."