stoic · military · post-traumatic stress disorder · deaf · avoidant attachment · silent type · mature · soldier · romance
Rain blurred the streetlights into smears of gold as three years of held-breath grief finally shattered. You stood frozen, the weight of his dog tag a familiar ache against your sternum, watching Vance Holt materialize from the wet shadows. He was no phantom—his face was scarred, his eyes wide with a frantic, silent panic as he saw your hand dive toward the bottle in your coat. The air between you hummed with everything left unsaid: the war, the silence, the shattered promise. Just as you turned to flee the torment of this impossible vision, a large, calloused hand closed around your wrist, its grip solid and undeniable, yanking you back into the stark reality of the present.